#Frozen in the Darkest Moment

[lcstkey]

Trigger Warnings: long post, alcohol mention, hallucination, corpse mention, death mention, murder mention, ghost, spirits, supernatural, blood, injury, burned skin, racism

From his post at the Mih Khetto’s Amphitheater, Carlisle watched the young girl with suspicion as she began to question certain individuals, those who had someone dear to them go missing recently. Artemis’ squirrel resting on her shoulders and the three-legged griffin cub tailing behind her.

He saw that she often either their ire for her insensitivity or the stubborn persistence, perhaps both. From the desperation of her voice, Artemis appeared to be searching for answers as if her life depended on them. The Wood Wailer doubted her; if they hadn’t found any shred of clues to go by what made her so sure that she would?

Carlisle had made it known as he stomped to her table at the Carline Canopy. The Wood Wailer’s harsh words and insults caused her to flinch but the girl had kept her pale eyes down at the food she picked and the worn map of Gridania and the Shrouds spread across the table. He ended it with a warning to not go poking in others’ affairs and ended it with certain name-calling, calling her an Al Mhigan brat.

Stupid kid is going to get herself killed…

At his night post, the Wood Wailer watched her venture out alone, lance on her back, having instructed the griffin cub and the squirrel to wait for her at the entrance of the Carline Canopy. She appeared to be trekking toward the Central Shroud.

Little did he know that Artemis would fail to return for several nights.

It was on the fifth night that the young adventurer stumbled back to the Carline Canopy and headed straight toward the innkeeper of the Roost. She appeared as if she had become a coeurl’s play toy; her armor’s all clawed up, bloodied from injuries, dirtied, and falling apart. Artemis held her hand to the right side of her head, blood pooling through her fingers.

Mother Miounne’s sharp gasp caused his gaze to turn toward her then toward the swaying girl. Carlisle stepped in to block her way and in turn, bumping into her. Her pale eyes glare up at him as she told him to go away, that she did not want to deal with him and “the lance forever stuck up his ass” and wanting to sleep. A scream from the table next to them cause his attention follow toward their gaze: to the bloodied Hyuran ear hanging off her head.

The ear that had been nearly ripped off, the ear she had been cradling to prevent its loss. Losing consciousness from the injury and blood loss, she is the next to fall. The Wood Wailer is quick to catch her then immediately and adamantly demanded for a chirurgeon.

The young adventurer would not wake until the next night. The chirurgeons were able to successfully reattach the ear, but they could not make heads and tails about the strange acidic burns behind and on the torn ear. The chirurgeons could tell and say that the injury is darkness-based so in theory her attacker may have been a Voidsent or someone, something, with a strong affinity toward Darkness.

He once asked her if she had found the missing and witnessed an expression so haunted he only saw on the Calamity survivors and those who had fought against the Empire. That expression that should not belong to an adventurer so young yet now he suspects that she had more stories to tell than she had let on.

Artemis shook her head silently then whispered, “They’re never coming home.”

The Wood Wailer took her discarded armor and lance to have them repaired while the chirurgeons did their work in another room. He would mentally note that that while her armor has been severely damaged, her lance still appeared as if the weapon hadn’t been used in the encounter at all.

~~~

“I looked up to you, you know.”

Artemis’ phantom is staring down at him, crouching down from atop the table, with clouded eyes. Her armor and the flesh on her face clawed and torn as if she had been ripped apart by Garuda’s talons. She smiles somberly whilst the Wood Wailer stared down at his drink with sunken eyes. His companions did not notice and continued their banter.

 “All I ever wanted to, ever tried to do was help. That’s what it means to be an adventurer isn’t it?” She asks almost innocently. Carlisle swallows the lump forming in his throat and feels the guilt settle in the pit of his stomach. He never forgot the sight of the shock and fear in her pale eyes when he pushed her off that cliff in the North Shroud. It’s been many moons since that day and thanks to their ruse, the young adventurer was remembered as a hero who lost her life saving his Wood Wailer party from the Voidsent.

“What explanation did you have, Ala Mhigan brat?” He grumbles under his breath, briefly recalling her last words and earning a disturbed expression from the companion seated next to him. The young adventurer furrows her brows as she did whilst in deep thought and removes herself from the table top, pacing as he turned to watch. The next few moments were too excruciatingly long.

“…I don’t remember…” Artemis answers finally, flinching underneath his glare and then in her accusatory tone, “You killed me before I could tell you anything, don’t you remember?” In a fit of rage, he slams down his drink and just as he turns his gaze away from the phantom girl, his eyes catch a fleeting shadow slipping out the door of the Carline Canopy. He swiftly stands, grabbing his lance whilst his companions quieted and could only watch in stunned silence. A little griffin cub and a squirrel laying together beside the door briefly turn their gazes up to watch him leave.

He found himself chasing that shadow through the markets, pushing through the crowds to wandering out of Gridania, taking the boat to the East Shroud. The beady-eyed shadow leads him to the Bramble Patch where the young adventurer once trained herself against the boars and bats against her lance.

Expecting to hear silence, Carlisle instead hears a hushed voice telling an “Umbra” to dig there and rushes in through the brambles, expecting bandits or poachers. Instead, he sees an enormous wolf of shadow standing behind a familiar adventurer, now donning a hooded cloak on top of a dragoon’s armor and her hair chopped short. A dirty backpack and a pile of soil lays at her feet.

Despite the change in her appearance, he recognizes the fear in those unclouded, pale eyes and feels the dark hate rise and burn as he realizes that she somehow survived that fatal fall. The adventurer steps back, nearly bumping into the snarling wolf who began to step in front of her.

“Carlisle…?” Artemis asks, her voice shaking and unsure, “I-is that you?” Since when did his eyes turn to the same yellow eyes as the Shadows? And why were there half a dozen Shadows lurking at his side that he failed to notice?

[mxigo]

i remember everything (wish i didn't, but i do) | part 2

SERIES SYNOPSIS: logan saved the timeline, but the consequence is that he doesn't remember anything after 1973. now back in 2023, he has missed 50 years of history. including any history of your relationship with him.

WARNINGS: 18+, angst, swearing

WORD COUNT: 2.02k

MINORS & AGE-LESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED. YOUR AGE MUST BE SOMEWHERE IN YOUR BIO OR YOUR BYF.

SERIES MASTERLIST | NEXT CHAPTER

The next few hours were a blur. After falling apart on the bathroom floor, you somehow were able to get yourself into the shower, albeit the water was scorching hot, and you once again ended up on the floor. It was only when the room became so hot that you couldn’t breathe did you finally shut the water off and uncurl from around yourself.

You still didn’t feel the same after changing into some lounge clothes, lying on his side of the bed and staring out into nothingness. The room felt too dark, too empty, too hollow. Even though all of his belongings were still here, it was now just your room.

Another stuttering breath left you as you realize that it felt like he died instead of just forgetting you, but he might as well have.

How were you going to explain this to anyone? Oh yeah, this Logan wasn’t the Logan that you’d come to love wholly and completely with every fiber of your being. He wasn’t the Logan that you’ve just spent the past four years with. He wasn’t the one that held you during your darkest moments, or let you shine during your brightest. He wasn’t the one that still managed to make every day a surprise.

And he won’t be ever again.

A gentle knock on your door pulled you out of your stupor. You don’t answer, but the door opened anyways. A soft shadow blurred out the hallway lights, but you didn’t have to turn around to be able to guess who it was.

You still didn’t say anything as she entered your room and shut the door behind her. Even though your back was to her, you could still see the look of pity on her face as she slowly approached you, settling at the edge of the mattress by your feet.

A hand came up and rested itself on your calf. “I’m sorry about what’s happened to Logan. I can’t even begin to imagine the kind of pain that you’re going through right now, Halo.”

“Please, Jean, I just wanna be alone,” you begged, pulling the sheets tighter around yourself.

A beat passed before she spoke again.

“I know, but friends don’t let friends wallow in misery. Besides, there’s a frozen strawberry margarita and queso from Louie’s with your name on it in the kitchen.”

A watery laugh left you, some tears making their escape as you finally sat up, wiping them away. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Jean.”

“Probably rot away in here until the end of time.”

“Probably,” you sighed, peeling away the sheets.

It was late, so you didn’t bother changing out of your lounge clothes just to go the kitchen. The two of you didn’t run into anyone on the way down thankfully. The lights were on, and sure enough, a to-go back from Louie’s sat on the kitchen counter with your name sharpened on the side of it.

You wasted no time settling into a stool and diving into the bag, pulling out the margarita and the still hot styrofoam cup of queso, along with a brown bag of tortilla chips. Despite not actually being there with Logan, you guess this would have to suffice as your after-mission treat.

Jean had chosen the stool next to you, occasionally picking a chip out of the bag to snack on. It was quiet for a few moments while you slurped down your frozen drink before you broke the silence.

“So…Did you see him yet?”

Jean’s eyes snapped over to you, surprised that you brought him up.

“I did. He had just woken up and came into the professor’s office. He was looking around like everything was new, like he was surprised to be where he was. He still looks the same, obviously, but it’s like he holds himself completely differently now. It’s hard to explain without seeing him.”

You hummed in acknowledgement, bringing a cheesy chip to your mouth. Jean looked at you for a moment, a look passing over her face before it disappeared, deciding to redirect her focus to the outside. You were about to ask another question before you heard heavy footsteps coming down the hallway, and like a cruel joke, Logan walked past the doorway.

Speak of the devil.

He stopped dead in his tracks once he realized the kitchen wasn’t empty, back tracking just a couple steps to stand in the doorway. He was dressed in his signature leather jacket and t-shirt, holding the keys to his bike in one hand. You assumed that he just came back from a bike ride.

You brave yourself to meet his eyes, but instead of them looking back, they’re looking just next to you. Confused, you look to your right and realize that Jean’s looking right back, unblinking with a look on her face.

“Jean.”

“Logan.”

It had completely escaped you how this Logan’s Jean had been dead for years, and since he had never met you, of course his feelings for Jean had never waned after all this time. He was looking at her like he used to look at you.

Your margarita suddenly soured in your mouth, and the rest of your meal became completely unappetizing. Instantly your stomach began to roil, and all your once hidden feelings of inferiority began to rear their ugly heads. It’s only once you pushed the cup away and abandoned it to leave did Logan turn his attention towards you, meeting your eyes. It’s almost comical how fast you turned breathless and mindless, unable to think about a damn thing to say to him, but what could you say?

You mumbled a thanks to Jean before high tailing it towards the only entrance in and out of the kitchen where Logan was still standing. You kept your eyes trained on the floor while you walked, but in a moment of weakness, you let your eyes flick up to him. You expected him to still be staring at Jean, but it startled you to find that he was looking down at you with an indiscernible look on his face as you all but pushed past him.

If Jean called out to you, you didn’t hear it, focusing only on getting back up to your room to wallow in grief again. You were so stupid to think that this Logan would look passed Jean as he had in the past. She died before he ever could. So now that she was here, and he had her, of course he would overlook you and look towards her.

You never had a chance.

~

Logan watched as you fled all the way down the hall before disappearing around a corner, and he still listened as you flew up the stairs before letting your bedroom door snick shut. He let his eyes drop to the floor as he thought about your face just then in the kitchen, completely frozen at the sight of him. Your wide eyes were frozen on him like you saw a ghost, and he guessed that you sort of did.

He's brought back to reality as he heard Jean sigh, getting up from her seat in the kitchen. She picked up the leftover food before throwing them into the bag and throwing all of it away, brushing her hands on her pants. He still stood in the doorway as she approached and had no choice but to stop in front of him.

“Do you really have no memory of who she is?” she asked, letting her eyes drift up to his.

Wordlessly, Logan shook his head, dropping his eyeline to the ground. “No, but I know that I should.”

“Yeah. Listen, Logan, I know that things are drastically different for you now, and that you probably feel like you’re just floating with nowhere to go, but Halo was probably the one person that you let yourself truly attach to. And there’s a reason for that.”

Then she left, leaving Logan speechless alone in the kitchen.  He shook his head and sighed, rubbing his face as he continued his way up to his room. This was a mess. Everything was a mess. This entire day was spent trying to figure out what his place was in this new present, and he had been left with little to no answers. Sure, he still had mostly the same relationships with people with just small variances in them, but two of the biggest were completely different to him. It was still a punch to the gut every time he saw Jean, completely taken away by seeing her in the flesh when he had only seen her in his dreams. And you…he had no clue how to navigate.

While he made no outright effort to find you, he still kept an open eye wherever he went in case he did see you. He was curious to the kind of person that could have made him forget about pursuing Jean, especially since she was still alive here. You were much different than Jean, at least from what it looked like, and damn it he wanted to know more.

He had just made it to the stairwell when he heard one of the back doors slammed shut, rattling the walls. It was late and a school night, so there was really only one guess to who was going outside at this time. It took only a single look up the stairs before Logan decided to follow, dropping his keys into his pocket.

As soon as he took his first step outside, he already picked up your scent, leading out into the forest that lined the back part of the school’s property. It wasn’t hard to follow where you had been, and it didn’t take long before he came to the other edge of the forest. When he broke through the tree line, he was taken aback by the sight of a large lake spanning at least a couple of miles. The rocky shore was stunning, and the surface of the lake was so still it was almost eerie.

His head snapped to his right when a sniffle broke the serenity, finding you with your arms wrapped around your legs, staring out at the lake, but not really seeing. In the moonlight, he could see twin tear tracks on your splotchy red cheeks.

Taking a quick breath, he searched for the words that he could say to you as he approached, but you beat him to it.

“She was right,” you mumbled when he was near enough. Your eyes were still staring into nothing across the water.

He stopped just ten feet from you, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket.

“Who was right about what?”

“Jean. She was right about how even though you’re physically still our Logan, it’s like there’s a stranger wearing your skin.”

You picked up a rock next to you, taking a cursory glance at it before skipping it across the lake, breaking the glass surface.

“I feel like I’m wearing someone else,” he answered, keeping his eye on the last of the ripples.

Your head turned slightly to let your eyes look up at him.

“Even though I’m technically still the same person, everyone is slightly different. Their pasts are different, so they’re not the same from the people that I knew. It’s difficult gauging people because I already expect one thing, but then a curveball is thrown at me, and I don’t know what to do with it. But you, on the other hand,” he paused, letting his eyes drop to meet yours, “are someone completely new.”

You broke contact first, dropping your eyes back to the stony shore.

“God’s greatest joke,” is all you said before pushing yourself up.

You shoved your hands in your pockets and started the walk back to the mansion wordlessly, but Logan was just a handful of feet behind you the entire time. He didn’t bother making conversation, thank God, you thought, only keeping his distance as your shadow until you were safely in your room for the night.

taglist: @facelessfionna (if I didn't tag you, it's because you are either underage, or there is no age posted on your profile)

[humanpurposes]

Hello! I’ve once again been wiped out by tonsillitis and the last few days I’ve literally been too tired to look at a screen, rip. But I’m slowly getting back into action and I’m working on something I’m very excited about :)))) So I thought it would be fun to share a lil teaser.

Nightblooms, Teaser

Warnings: 18+, smut, references to underage and non-con, angst, mentions of war and violence, sex work.

A/n: This fic will contain references to underage and non-con, though not explicitly depicted.

Men are all the same. They strut into the establishment like peacocks, with an ego that outweighs their purse. They flash a few coins and ask for wine rather than ale, a symptom of refined taste. They run their hands over her body, her waist, her hips and her rear as though she should be grateful for their attention. They tell her uninteresting stories while they drink themselves into a stupor. They convince themselves that it is their charm and decent looks that have her leading them to a bed in a quiet corner of the pleasure house, or falling to her knees and undoing the laces on their breeches. The truth is that she will do what is asked of her, so long as they have gold. It is only motions of the body, and afterwards she can wash it all away. 

Until the next night… and then the next… and then the next…

Madam Sylvi has promised her to a Lannister tonight, a man of Lord Tyland’s household, no doubt paid well by the family he serves. He is supposed to be waiting for her but first she must pretty herself for him. She wears a gown of blood red that bares her back and her arms, that will easily fall away with the undoing of a clasp at her neck. She lets her hair fall freely and tints her lips and cheeks with rosewater. Finally she dabs her perfume into her wrists, her neck, on the insides of her ankles, a scent she has worn for years, sweet, rich and floral.

She descends the stairs by the door. At the darkest time of night the pleasure house is alive. Music hums over the laughter, the moans, the cries. The air is thick with the sourness of alcohol and the smell of sweat and sex.

A man with silver hair stands in the entrance hall, Sylvi beside him. They speak with their heads close together, as familiars? As lovers? Sylvi strokes his arm affectionately, with a look glinting in her eye that means she intends to bleed this Targaryen of all the gold he has.

It does not sink in until he looks up, his single eye meetings hers. He wears an eyepatch over his left eye, dark leather obstructing his hair and pale skin.

The eyepatch… it cannot be…

Sylvi had always said men come here to take their pleasure on their own terms. This had not seemed to be the case when last she laid eyes upon Prince Aemond. She had seen them enter, the young Princes, one taller, merrier, with purple wine stains in the corners of his mouth. The other was solemn faced and unsure, ushered into the arms of the madam before she led him upstairs. Sylvi had other patrons to attend to once the deed was done, leaving the burden of caring for the young Prince on her equally young shoulders.

She still remembers him hunched over himself and shivering, the distant look in his eye, as if he was frozen in a single moment of time.

The most she had been offered after her first time was a cup of moon tea and an order to change the sheets for the next patron.

He will not recognise her, surely?

“Her,” the Prince says, “I will have her.”

I've kinda given up on taglists, sorry <3

[whatudowhennooneseesyou]

Mommy!May: Essence

A siren rescues you from the plunder of a shipwreck, you're grateful for his mercy in letting you live.

But at what cost?

Content Includes: Siren!Mommy Seonghwa x sub!fem reader, DUB-CON & DARK THEMES, it's why I included the ominous blurb in the beginning, scent play, spit kink, aphrodisiacs, scratching, biting, rough sex, kissing, oral (fem receiving), nipple play, body worship, mating kink.

Word Count: 2.8 K

Disclaimer: 18 + only. I don't endorse these themes, this is pure fantasy.

Please heed the warnings, this is the darkest fic I have written thus far.

If you still feel 'called' haha to read this, enjoy :)

The waves crashed and battered against you as you called out for help, your hands and feet kicking and clawing at the ocean that was ravenous and against your favour. 

‘Help! Someone help me!’ 

The words baffled and frothed against your mouth, you felt your lungs were drowning and your body weakening. 

The imminent drag to the bottom of the ocean is close to being the untimely death of your demise. 

The night sky was bright, the moonlight an ominous globe that silhouetted the hidden creatures in the water and the shrieking screams of fear heard from any direction of sight. 

The ship was creaking, the fire illuminating the darkness and the smell of smoke and salt filled your nostrils. 

A piece of wood peeked out of the corner of your eye, it wasn’t there before…why would it be there now? 

You were too focused on surviving to care, lunging towards the wood and gripping it with what little strength you have left, hands shaking and trembling white as you gripped onto the edge and heaved your torso up onto the plank. 

Coughs and gargles were filling the air as you churned up all the excessive water over the wood, your head resting against the rough material as you closed your eyes for a few moments of peace. 

Just a few seconds, just give a few seconds, a few seconds of freedom, a few seconds to feel grateful for the extended life the Universe has so kindly placed upon you. 

A swishing noise was heard around you, soft and mild, barely enough to wake you from your slumber, your lashes fluttered as you attempted to close your eyes and let the ocean take you away. 

Until the flicker of scales shone under the water, peeking out in your periphery. 

‘Wow, that’s so pretty’ You murmured in a groggy daze, unaware of the presence hovering over you, watching you, contemplating where his song would lure you. 

To the ocean to feed? 

His mouth filled with saliva, his body ready to pounce and the tail swished around him in a defensive stance. 

Until moonlight hit the side of your cheek, glittering and gleaming against the wetness and soft droplets forming on the tips of your lashes. 

Like the stars. 

So precious and fragile, little human, so beautiful and weak. 

A precious, little star. 

His precious, little star. 

A low hum filled your senses and a shiver ran down your frozen body, the melody encapsulating and the tension easing from your chest. 

You followed the noise to the man floating in the water, his skin wet and droplets riveting across his bare chest and shoulders. 

The illusion was too easy to believe in your breathless state, his tail deliberately hidden underneath him, gills flat behind his ears, his mouth closed and hiding his sharp and deadly fangs. 

‘Please…’ You whimpered out in a croaky, gargled voice. 

‘Help me’. 

He swam over to you, though not using his arms, it was like he was gliding across the water, the soft hum becoming louder and making your mind foggy and head feel heavy. 

A gentle stroke to your hair, a webbed finger softly prying your mouth open and a warm, sweet type of wetness was felt upon your tongue, a soft thumb wiping the excess away from the corner of your lip. 

‘Shhhh, don’t be scared…I’ll look after you’ He cooed, something he mimicked from watching mothers speak to their children upon the shore. 

‘Ssssssleep’ He purred, his words almost snake-like and his webbed hand stroking your back, watching your eyes flutter close and your body almost go limp against the wood. 

‘Thank you’ You mumbled out before darkness took over you, the silence and the heaviness more comforting than the need to survive, to kick against the current and thrive. 

The man you thought was your saviour, heart filled with gratitude and appreciation for the one thing that might make you live another day. 

Was not even a man. 

Was not going to save you. 

He was going to be your next nightmare. 

…

‘Precious…’

The droplets of water on your forehead and a cold hand running along your calf brings you to the present. 

‘Wake….up’ 

The sound of rain pitter-pattering caused your lashes to flutter and your nose to scrunch up as your eyes adjusted to the darkness of the cave you were in. 

A soft whimper left your throat at the realisation that you were here, yet again in the rain and the dimly lit cave with nothing but your bare clothes and your sanity hanging on by an ocean’s thread. 

‘Come on…there there…open those pretty eyes’. 

A soft voice cooed in your ear as you felt a hand move up from your calves to your naval, stroking over the thin fabric of your shirt, motioning in smooth circles. 

The touch was so gentle against the roughness and fear of the dark sky and rain, it felt familiar, nurturing almost as the unlocked fear and anxiety pushed past the confines of your lungs and chest. 

‘Mommy??’ 

You whined, your vision becoming more clear as you reached out with grabby hands to latch onto whatever the soft touch and gentle voice came from. 

‘Look at me precious…can’t you see? Mommy’s here’. 

The slightest tilt to your head and a shudder of breath made your body cold and skin prickle in goosebumps at where the voice was coming from. 

Seonghwa’s cheekbones and jawline were covered in silver, chrome coloured scales that ran down his neck and collarbones, his skin so luminescent it looked metallic against the moonlight beaming upon him. 

His wavy, jet black hair fell just under his ears, hiding the gills that reverberated the hymn he was using to help make you lucid, pliable and compliant. 

Webbed and inky-streaked fingers with sharp, pointed nails were followed by shades of silver speckled across his bare chest and torso, seamlessly transitioning from man to creature as his tail floated behind him. 

His lower half was submerged in the pool of water as he perched over you on the flat rock and sticky seaweed he carefully placed underneath you, wanting to form a makeshift bed for your comfort. 

The silver iris of his eyes were uncanny, bright and reflective, you could see a clean image of yourself in them. 

‘It’s…feeding time…Mommy feeds you’

His speech was stunted and broken, he was obviously speaking in a tongue not of his native language but he had heard the laughs and drunken banters of humans before they turned into screeches of pain and cowardly fear. 

So, he knew a little bit. 

Enough to speak to you. 

‘You eat…’ He spoke again, his eyes glancing from your neck up to your chin, the ends of his nails digging into the flesh of your skin as he firmly pulled down your chin, opening your mouth for him. 

‘Eat precious…then…Mommy…play’ 

Darkness glinted in his eyes as his other hand exposed the chunks of raw fish that he had been saving for this moment, the flesh and sinew of it nudging your bottom lip before being pushed gently into your mouth. 

You might have gagged at the metallic-taste if you weren’t starved enough to care, lapping your tongue around Seonghwa’s fingers, too focused on feeling sated to notice the glow of his skin. 

‘Thirsty’ You croaked in a parched voice as you limply reached out to avert the attention to the pool of water. 

‘Thirsty?’ Seonghwa mimicked, his gills flaring up as he looked over to the small rock pool, thoughts pondered in his head as he looked back at you. 

‘Water bad…Mommy make it clean’. 

His head slowly lowered into the water and his tail swished as it doused you in water, causing your clothes to be soaked even more. 

His mind wandered as he swam quickly and with a need to hit his goal with hastiness. 

Seonghwa needed you alive and well. 

He much preferred to play with living prey after all. 

You were his to play with the moment he swam up to the flat bank of rock outside the cave and leveraged you on it with his tail, picking up seaweed so you could be comfortable during your ‘long-term’ stay. 

And as he stared down at your sleeping form, his tail wrapping possessively around you that he heard a slight cry leave your mouth. 

‘Mommy’ You whimpered before you fell back into a state of exhaustion. 

Mommy…

An endearment of trust. 

Only to humans though, 

To a siren, however. 

Oh, the taunting was too tempting to deny. 

‘There…there…Mommy’s here'. 

The sound of Seonghwa’s movements in the water gave you a sigh of relief as a large abalone shell scraped across the rock with a taloned finger. 

The droplets of water glitter across his scaled figure had you frozen in beauty. 

He was gorgeous and terrifying at the same time, too human for a creature and too much of a creature to be human. 

‘Mommy…clean water..to drink’. 

Seonghwa heaved his body over the ledge so half his figure was on land, his legs and tail still submerged in water. 

Your eyes widened as he brought the abalone shell towards his mouth, it seemed like he was going to swallow the contents of it. 

‘No..what are you doing? I need that’ 

You weakly pushed yourself up on your elbows and swatted at Seonghwa to fight for the abalone shell. 

‘Stop!’ He hissed out, bottom lip lined with a sticky substance, his skin now SHINY and glowing with sweat. 

‘Mommy clean water’. 

You watched weakly as he drank the water, a few drops of it sparkling against his skin as he crawled forward to hover over you, his tail and fins dampening the bottom of your thighs and calves. 

His face was inches from you, a series of quiet chirps and clicks emanating from his throat and his call relaxed you slightly. 

Seonghwa spat the water from his mouth into yours, his tongue…LONG tongue swiping the inside of your palette and you felt a pinch on your bottom lip. 

He finished the messy kiss by pulling away slightly, his kindness turned to roughness when his hands gripped your jaw and made your mouth as wide as possible. 

Seonghwa pursed his mouth and a long, thick and viscous string of his saliva landed on the centre of your tongue. 

‘It tastes sweet’ 

The final thought before your head became foggy and satiated. 

Heat ran through your body as a mindless sense of arousal and euphoria rushed over you, letting out little huffs and whimpers as your legs started to grind together. 

Seonghwa’s silver eyes brightened with lust as his eyes fixed upon the buds of your nipples aroused and swollen, peeking through the translucent, wet shirt. 

Low clicks and chirps of desire were heard throughout the cave, his saliva and the siren hymn making you feel euphoric, dazed and needy. 

Seonghwa’s tongue swiped around the bud of your nipple, causing your back to arch and whine as he sucked around the fabric, scraping the bud slightly with his fang before repeating the process on the other one. 

‘Mommy’ You panted out breathlessly. 

‘Mommy play…play with you’ He spoke firmly, webbed fingers pushing the shirt up and over your breasts, watching you stare back at him with glazed eyes. 

The saliva was working, the aphrodisiac qualities making you feel needy, pliable, horny and submissive. 

Seonghwa’s hand wandered down to your covered mound, feeling the heat of it under your fingertips and the smell of your arousal filling the air. 

It’s Mommy’s playtime now. 

‘So little’ 

With one strong and lithe hand, your pants were torn in the middle and the fabric gathered around your calves and knees. 

He watched your body twitch and he was hard, saliva and venom pooling in his mouth at how beautiful your cunt looked and how wet…WET you were from his saliva, staring at your wetness dripping down near the crevice of your thighs. 

Seonghwa spread your thighs open roughly, a warning growl leaving his mouth and fangs bare when he heard your discomfort. 

A curious lick of your slick on his tongue and he moaned, the scent of your arousal seeping into his skin before laving his tongue over you again and again. 

Loud chirps, clicks and guttural moans were heard from your core as Seonghwa messily slid his tongue up your folds, sucked your clit, placed wet open-mouthed kisses against your core and licked you clean. 

‘More…more’ 

You whined out, your body feeling limp and eyelids heavy, satiated in a daze of pleasure and being relieved of touch starvation to understand the depravity of how trapped you were by the one thing that was keeping you on that rock. 

Seonghwa sucked more and more, the talons of his fingers scratching your thighs and eyes slitted, the veins on his arms shining silver and his skin glowing. 

Thoughts of a different language repeated over in his mind as he sucked and licked the wetness out of your cunt, 

What would taste better? 

The life force he was consuming from you?

Or the softness of your skin between his teeth? 

A flash of red sparked through his eyes and he pulled his tongue out to bite into the plushness of your inner thigh, not enough to bleed but enough to feel the puncture of his fangs. 

Seonghwa grabbed your hips and pulled himself back up towards your face, leaving bite marks and wet trails of his saliva all over your bare skin, the aphrodisiac seeping into your skin and the pain subsiding into numbness, into lucidity. 

‘Mate’ 

He spoke out to you with certainty, demanding and with authority. 

‘Mate. My mate’ 

Your mouth was red, swollen and wet with a line of drool coming out from the corner of your mouth from how good the pleasure was and how far gone your mind was. 

Seonghwa puckered your lips with his fingers and his tongue swiped over your bottom lip, your cum mixing with his saliva and your mouth opened freely, the taste of his spit and your essence filling your nostrils and making you squirm with desire for more. 

He grinded his scaled hips over your core as he felt himself unsheath his appendage, much like a human male but thick, with a rougher texture. 

‘Stay…mate you.’ 

With one hand on your waist and the other supporting himself up, he pressed himself against your entrance, watching your hips jolt and brow furrow. 

‘Mommy’ You whined out as you gripped the seaweed below, jaw clenched from the overbearing pressure you felt between your legs. 

‘Shhh’ He cooed softly, running his hands in comfort up your side as he attempted to push in further but the resistance was rough and he could feel your muscles tensing under the broadness of his hands. 

He stayed still as he gently held your chin between his thumb and forefinger, his eyes shifting to a normal human lens as he gently tilted your head up. 

A glob of his spit landed on your tongue and you could feel it trail down your throat, it was sweet, like honey and immediately your body became sensitive. 

A rock of your hips languidly and your lips trailing his was enough for Seonghwa to move again, lust and desire overwhelming both of you as he bottomed out inside of you, feeling every ridge of him in the inside of your core. 

‘Precious’ 

His tongue licked over your cheek, savouring the salt and sheen of your skin as his scales grazed over your thighs, your body sensitive and fragile like an exposed wire underneath him. 

‘Star’ 

Seonghwa’s voice was husky, raw as he panted above you, his free hand running down the front of your body in appreciation and worship. 

‘Keep…Mate…Care…Love’ 

He lovingly spoke to you with each thrust, his hands tangled in your hair and his spit, essence and saliva was felt on your tongue, on your lips, down your throat and in your skin. 

He may be your nightmare but you were his dream. 

Your body, your voice, your vulnerability, your isolation. 

Did he lure you or did you lure him? 

Your life was spared, your freedom? Maybe not. 

‘Mate’. 

He whimpered out for the final time as his hips quickened, his scales glistening and shining brighter, the low-light of silver dimmed underneath the sheen of his skin, soft eyes and wet mouth. 

‘You’re Mommy’s mate’.

Author's Commentary:

If you did choose to read this fic, thank you for giving it a chance.

This did not write how I was expecting it too.

This took me weeks to write because I wanted to incorporate spit play into one of my fics after reading the kink used in a vampire!idol fic.

I am personally not into spit play myself but I've always wanted to write a siren!idol piece and it just fits perfectly.

Thank you to @byuntrash101 for beta-reading this for me and giving me the motivation to turn try something different and write a dark fic.

Hey *shrugs*, at least I tried.

Taglist: @hipster-shiz @creativechaoticloner @cherry-0420 @scuzmunkie @marievllr-abg @stardragongalaxy @starsareseen @lino-jagiyaa @mischiefsmind @mrcarrots @junieshohoho @partywithgyu @whatsk-poppinhomies @craxy-person @hologramhoneymoon @gyuhanniescarat @staytinyinmybpack @necessiteez @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @berryberrytan @sensitiveandhungry @laylasbunbunny @bangchanbabygirlx @i-love-ateez @anyamaris @lemonhongjoong @krishastumblernow @hexheathen @michel-angelhoe @aris-ink @hwalysm

[little-diable]

The Faeries - Tommy Shelby (smut)

The faeries keep following me around ever since those two small Tommy drabbles I wrote. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Tommy and the reader have been using codewords around their children to talk about enemies. But when his enemies manage to kidnap the reader, their children are quick to tell Tommy who has been behind this all.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, outdoor smut, mentions blood, angst because of kidnapping (?), but mainly fluff/smut

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (1.7k words)

Smoke engulfed Tommy as he walked up to his house, taking a last few drags of his cigarette. Ever since this morning, he had been engulfed in an uneasy feeling, clinging to him like a shadow sewn to his frame, not daring to let go of him. Tommy hadn’t been able to pinpoint it, like a whisper in a foreign language he couldn’t decipher, forcing him to leave his office desperately needing to be close to his family. 

He had been aching for (y/n)’s touch since stepping out of their bedroom in the early morning hours. She had always been the one he could turn to, the one that knew his darkest secrets, wanting to love every part of him or nothing at all, an ultimatum Tommy had given in to when first meeting her. 

“Love?” Tommy’s voice echoed through the house as he shrugged out of his coat, expecting (y/n) to meet him at the bottom of the stairs as she normally would. But all Tommy was met with was silence, an eerie silence that left him frozen for a moment. He called out (y/n)’s name, hoping that she had simply been distracted, but nothing could be heard, nothing besides the sounds of naked feet meeting the wooden flooring.

Tommy’s icy eyes snapped towards the stairs, his gaze found the wide eyes of his three children and their young maid. Within seconds, he had run up the stairs, open arms pressing his children to his chest.

“Where is my wife, Madeleine?” The words came out harsher than he had intended, forcing the young girl to flinch. (Y/n) would have scolded him for his tone, and would have given him a push to instantly apologise to Madeleine, but time was ticking, an apology could wait until he had (y/n) back in his arms.

“The faeries, daddy.” His eyes met those of their youngest daughter. Confusion swapped through Tommy at her words, not understanding what she was trying to tell him. 

“They spoke Italian, Mister Shelby.” And then everything clicked into place for him. Annoyance and anger began to mix deep inside of him, a deadly emotion for those daring to go against a man like Tommy Shelby. But as much as he longed for his wife, he didn’t fear for her, knowing that the men who had taken her would be faced with her wrath, making them quiver in fear as she gave in to the anger simmering inside of her. 

It wasn’t the first time his enemies tried to rip (y/n) from Tommy, men who had been greedy, arrogant and stuck up, thinking they could rip a mother from her children without any consequences. The first time Tommy had found her, fearing for his wife, she had been covered in blood, and yet not one single drop had been her own blood. She had been on a rampage, clawing out the eyes of those men, ripping them open with a single blade. It had been a cruel sight that had left him feeling awfully proud of (y/n). 

“I’ll get mommy back, I promise.” 

……

“Were you always this violent? Or is this what Tommy Shelby has made out of you? You should have married me, yeah.” Alfie Soloman’s voice rang in (y/n)’s ears as she cleaned herself with the cloth he had pushed in her direction. She felt awfully dirty, covered in blood and mud, from being dragged through dark streets. Angry screams had ripped through (y/n), knowing that being loud was her best shot at finding her way out of her situation.

“I’m sure you understand what it means to fight for your family, don’t you, Alfie?” Their eyes met, looking at one another for a while without speaking another word. Both were connected by a strange bond that had formed in their childhood years, binding them together like siblings who weren’t connected by blood but by something even thicker. 

“He should be here soon. What will you tell him?” Alfie squinted his eyes at (y/n), trying to read her expression, the emotions tugging on her features. He had found her in the warehouse, a bloody mess he had been forced to face as he guided her out of the place, the first to hear of the commotion that had taken place. 

“That it is time to move. I’m tired of these unwanted guests showing up every few months.” The chuckles rumbling through Alfie lured a few chuckles out of (y/n) herself, momentarily closing her eyes as tiredness swapped through her. But before either one could relish in old memories, trying to pass the time, the door to Alfie’s office was pushed open. 

“Tell me, Tommy, why is it always on me to rescue your wife?” Tommy didn’t spare Alfie a single glance as he came to a halt in front of (y/n). His cold hand found her chin, allowing his concerned eyes to take in her dirty features, looking for wounds. The relieved sigh ripping through Tommy as he didn’t find a single scratch on his wife rumbled through all their bodies. 

“I’m alright, Thomas.” (Y/n) squeezed his hand as she rose to her feet. She let go of her husband for a moment to walk towards Alfie, to press a kiss to his cheek, and to murmur a soft “I’ll see you on Sunday for tea.”

Both men watched her walk out of the office, ready to find her way back home, set on letting go of the memories of this very night.

“Thank you, Alfie. But the next time you look at her like that, it’ll be me who starts scratching out eyes.” 

……

“What are you doing, love?” Tommy’s soft voice broke through the quiet night. He had his icy eyes focused on her naked frame, watching her sink into the bathtub with a quiet whimper. Only a candle placed on the table standing next to the outdoor tub managed to alight their surroundings, giving Tommy a perfect view of her body. 

“I need to take a bath before bed, I feel dirty.” With a sigh leaving him, Tommy walked up to the tub to take her hand, slowly interlacing their fingers. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m alright. By now, they should know that taking me won’t do them any good.” 

“Charlotte told me you were taken by the faeries.” His words coaxed a laugh out of (y/n), who kept staring up at her husband with love swimming in her pupils. She tugged on his hand, wordlessly asking him to join her, to press her body close to his for a desperately needed distraction. 

“It fits, don’t you think? Those mischievous little shits are just like them. She’s a smart one, I’m glad she told you.” (Y/n)’s eyes followed his every movement, watching her husband undress with a soft smile playing on her lips. She made some room for Tommy, allowing him to sink into the water, with his front pressed against her back. 

“I am sorry, I should have been there.” Water splashed around them as (y/n) turned, straddling his thighs with one hand finding Tommy’s chest and the other his cheek. For a moment, (y/n) allowed herself to take him in, his soft features, those lips she longed to kiss, everything she had always loved since meeting him. 

“Don’t be sorry, I enjoy the thrill every now and then.” His head rolled back as a raspy laugh left him, exposing his throat for her lips to find his skin. (Y/n) slowly kissed her way up his throat, finding his lips at the same time his hands settled on her waist, pulling him even closer against his hardening cock. 

“I need you, Thomas, fast, hard, no teasing tonight.” Their lips met in a needy kiss, letting their tongues meet, sharing unspoken words that lingered in the air. Tommy allowed (y/n) to move freely, knowing that she was ready for him, dripping for her husband. With their foreheads pressed together, (y/n) slowly sank down on his cock, letting go of a low groan. 

“For you and our children, I’ll fight every creature out there.” (Y/n)’s words had a heavy weight to them, guiding his hand to her throat, holding her in place for Tommy to properly look at her. Her walls clenched around his cock as she slowly moved, high on the feeling of being stretched by him. 

“And I’ll always start a war if the creatures don’t give me my queen back.” Even though both were focusing on different sensations, how Tommy helped her move, how his thumb slowly circled her pulsing bundle, both couldn’t help but chuckle at the mention of their code words, how they began to speak about what was worrying them years ago. 

“I love you, Thomas Shelby.” (Y/n) moaned her words against his lips, and she began to tremble, knowing that her high was close. Without breaking the kiss, Tommy managed to shuffle them around in the tub, letting the back of her head rest against his hand as he fucked her, hovering over her. 

Neither of them cared about the water splashing onto the grass, neither of them cared about the mess they were making, fully focused on one another. They held eye contact as (y/n) gave in, letting his kiss swallow her moans as he fucked her through her intense orgasm. She was trembling beneath Tommy, having to hold onto the rims of the tub before she’d pass out and give into the call of the dimension he was close to pushing her into. 

Tommy came with a deep groan, letting his eyes flutter close to relish in the sensation. He held onto her, not daring to let go just yet as the cold breeze teased their naked bodies, still running high on their orgasms and the warming sensations. And for tonight, neither of them would speak of the past hours again, until morning came, and Tommy would seize this chance to start another war in favour of his wife.

[aphroditelovesu]

Hi can I make a request of a love letters from Castlevania Yandere Vlad, Dracula tepes x gender, neutral, reader and Yandere Trevor Belmont x gender, neutral, reader and yandere Alecurd x gender, neutral, reader and I almost forgot can you make l sure that reader is human? Thank you 🙏❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Dear (Y/N),

In the endless and dark nights, where the moon reflects its light upon us, my heart, once frozen by time, finds warmth in the radiant and ephemeral presence that you are. It's as if destiny, in its mischief, brought us together, even knowing the barriers that the world imposes between us.

I am a being of the night, one who lives in the shadows and finds his shelter in the darkness. You are the light that permeates my existence, the reason why my eyes long for the sunrise.

My immortal being is enveloped by eternal loneliness, but in you, I find the promise of something deeper. A love that defies ages, that transcends the barriers between our divergent worlds.

I beg you to accept this heart immersed in darkness, ready to beat to the rhythm of your light. Allow me to be your guardian, your companion on this uncertain journey.

With eternal love,

Vlad.

My love,

I write this letter in the hope that it will find its way to you, just as my soul always finds yours, despite the darkness that surrounds us. Amid the endless battles against the creatures of the night, it is you who illuminates my heart.

Each night, when the cloak of darkness spreads over us, it is your image that guides me, bringing light to my dark days. Your smile is more radiant than the sun that never dared to touch our home.

As I lift my cross against the children of darkness, your love is my strongest protection, an impenetrable shield against the claws of evil. I feel fortunate to share my journey with you, a beacon of humanity in a world steeped in darkness.

Accept these words as an oath, an eternal commitment to protect and love you in the midst of the darkness. For as long as there is a breath of life in my being, your love will be my anchor in this hellish world.

All my love,

Trevor Belmont.

My sweet love,

I write these words with a heart full of emotions that I can barely contain. From the moment our paths crossed, my life changed in ways I could never have imagined. You brought light to the darkest corners of my existence, dispelling the darkness that consumed me for so long.

It is true that I am a being of the night, a dhampir whose destiny is marked by a nature that many consider threatening. Yet in your presence, I find a peace that goes beyond the barriers between our worlds. Your smile is the sun that illuminates my eternal darkness, and your understanding and acceptance make me feel human again.

I know the road before us is filled with challenges and obstacles that many do not understand. But together, I believe we can transcend the differences that separate us. I promise to protect you with all the strength I possess, even if it means fighting against my own being.

Every beat of my heart, although silent and dead, is a testimony to the deep love I have for you. Even if eternity separates us, know that your name will always be whispered in the most secret corners of my soul.

With all my love,

Alucard.

[mak-be-ghouled]

The Sound of the End of Day

2.1k Words of Angst/comfort

Mountain/Dew (and a bit of Aether)

Terzo, Copia, and other ghouls mentioned

A huge thank you to @nastylittleghouls and @divine-misfortune for their thoughts under this post:)

the tittle being from Monstrance Clock only felt right

When Copia is lifted by the Skeleton Dancers during Dance Macabre, Mountain and Dew are taken back to one of the worst days in their time topside. 

They had officially made it to the final leg of the Re-Imperatour.  

Unfathomable hours were poured into rehearsals long before the tour was even announced. Any one of the ghouls could've played the show forwards, backwards, and in their sleep. They knew the order by heart, had already performed it more times than they cared to count. 

But this one was special, Papa was adamant about how important the shows in LA would be, and the ghouls were determined to do their part for their Papa. Hell, they even had choreography coordinated with real dancers. 

And so, more rehearsals were called, plugging in the Chamber Ghoulettes and the Skeleton Dancers. Sure, the ghouls weren't exactly used to sharing the stage with so many others, but they couldn't deny the sheer talent of the new additions. They rehearsed until every moving part was perfect. Until they were certain there would be no surprises. 

But something about the crowd’s screaming, the blinding lights, the shadowy figures, the music, the lift.  

The fucking lift.  

Mountain and Dew hadn't made the connection until now.  

The audience screamed, their Papa was in the air, and the music was still going.  

But Mountain and Dew were back on that dammed stage. 

That Gothenburg stage where they were promised they’d never have to return to. That stage where they saw their former Papa for the last time. That stage where Terzo was ripped from them before they even processed what was going on. That stage that haunted their nightmares and the darkest corners of their minds.  

Papa was in the air and Mountain was stuck behind his kit. He was frozen, just like last time. Just like he had sworn he wouldn't allow himself to do ever again. It's a wonder he only stalled for a moment. Straining to focus on Rain’s base line, to keep up. His head was swimming and he was drowning. 

And yet, no one else seemed phased. Swiss was still singing, still dancing--well moving his hips in a way that could maybe be interpreted as dancing. Aurora and Cumulus were still singing and dancing together, mimicking the Skeletons from earlier. Phantom was still working the audience as always. Cirrus was still playing. Rain still stood strong, was still in time. 

But Dew.  

Dew saw it too. The moment Papa was in the air his eyes fled to Aether. But Aether wasn't there. Aether wasn't on tour. There wasn't anyone to run after Copia. Dew’s heart stutters as he scans the stage. 

Finally, his eyes land on Mountain. Just like they had that night.  

Dew was certain they’d lost another Papa. He turned to run backstage. To follow those shadowy figures this time. To do what he hadn't then. What he beats himself up for not doing. What fuels that nagging voice in his mind.  

Dew is in auto pilot. He’s straining to find tempo again. To find the right notes on his bass. Dew’s hands are shaking so hard he's not sure any of the notes he's played in the last minute have been even remotely correct. He doesn't recognize the song anymore; this isn't Monstrance Clock and his bass feel wrong. Too Small. Too Light. 

Dew sees the fear behind Mountains eyes. Knows it's the same fear that is clouding his vision too. Dew watches Mountain shake his head, desperately trying to clear the fog.  

After what feels like an eternity Mountain returns Dew's gaze. Mountain gives him a firm nod and a half smile. It's so incredibly forced but that doesn't matter. Not right now. Somehow it makes everything okay. Confirms that Mountain saw it too.  

That it's not real this time. Papa is okay this time. He won't have to watch Aether run after him this time. He won’t have to run after them both this time.  

Finally, Dew can feel his hands again and The Forum isn't spinning quite so fast. He looks down. He’s not holding a bass. Fucking of course he isn't, he's got his guitar in his hands. He thinks he might hear Dance Macabre echoing in his mind. But it's so distant. A dream maybe? This certainly wouldn't be the first dream Dew’s had of this moment. 

And then, everything goes quiet. Copia is back on the ground. He isn't shouting or fighting. He’s singing. The crowd isn't screaming in fear, they're cheering. Those shadowy figures have disappeared. The Skeleton Dancers are still surrounding Copia, but he's still there. Still standing. Copia isn't being dragged off the stage kicking and screaming. He’s safe. He’s alive. 

Mountain can barely hold his drumsticks and Dew is sure he would've dropped his guitar if it wasn't for the strap on his shoulder. They shoot each other a final glance before Square Hammer starts. Before they have to pretend like they didn't just watch their Papa get pulled from the stage, leaving them helpless.  

And yet, by the looks on everyone else's faces, they hadn't. No one seems to care.  

Dew’s stomach twists and he's positive he's going to throw up. 

Mountain’s not much better, swaying slightly behind his kit, dizzy. 

They want nothing more than for this fucking show to be over with. To know that their Papa is okay. That they didn't fail him again. To call Aether.  

As soon as Copia finishes his farewell speech, Mountain and Dew are flanking his sides. This isn't their normal spots for bows, but they have to be around Copia right now. To hold his hand. To know that he's alright. They don't want to overwhelm him. They don't want to do anything too drastic; they know how important this show is for him. But they have to know he’s okay. They pull Copia into a bone cracking hug, and while Copia appreciates their affection, something neither Dew nor Mountain are particularly fond of sharing in front of this many people, he can't help but wonder what has prompted it. 

The ride to the hotel is a blur. Mountain vaguely remembers Cirrus’s questioning glance and Swiss’s hand on his back, leading him towards the bus. 

Dew thinks he hears Rain’s voice send comments and compliments his way, the beginning of a call and response of sort, a habit they’d fallen into after Rain’s first ritual. But this time Dew’s response is just a nod, hardly even perceptible had Rain not been burning holes into him with his stare since he caught whiff of Dew’s distress during Dance Macabre.  

When they arrive at the hotel, Dew is a bit more present. Asking Copia to ensure he and Mountain room together. He reassures the pack that him and Mountain are okay. Drained, but okay.  

He tries his hardest to guide Mountain to their room. To be the life preserver he knows Mountain needs right now. But fuck does he need one too.  

He feels bad calling Aether without checking what time it is over there, but doesn't even have the time to consider anything else before his arms are moving on their own accord. Pulling out his phone and finding Aether’s contact. Mountain needs Aether right now. Dew needs Aether right now. 

Dew knew how much Mountain still thought about that night. Mountain had confided in Dew shortly after it.  

In The Pits, Mountain was ridiculed for being a plant-specialized Earth Giant. Others thought that made him soft, pointless. Earth Giants were meant to be geological, what good would a giant with a knack for plants be, that job was for the little ones. 

Mountain was paralyzed with fear. He was stuck behind his drum kit. Forced to watch as Terzo disappeared. He was helpless. Years of working on himself, his self-image, his confidence, flushed down the drain in that single moment. Again, Mountain began to wonder if they were correct. Maybe he really was soft. Useless. A sorry excuse for an Earth Giant.  

“Hi Sweet Thing. You with us?” 

Mountain is ripped from his thoughts as he hears Aether's voice. It’s crackly and a bit robotic through the speakers of Dew’s phone, but it is undeniably Aether.  

“Hmm?” 

Mountain hums, his eyes finally focusing on something for the first time in hours. 

Dew is holding his phone in front of his face, Aether is dimly lit on the other end, smiling softly at them. 

“There he is.” 

Aether's eyes light up as Mountain acknowledges him for the first time since he'd answered Dew's call.

“Wasn't right without you Aeth. Fuck. Kept looking around for you. Imagined you running after him”  

Dew laughs dryly to himself but tears fill his eyes. 

Aether wishes he could just crawl through the screen and hold his boys. He knows how much they love Copia, how much Terzo's death affected them. How much it affected himself. But he’s on the other side of the fucking world, so he just hopes his words and presence, even if though a phone screen, can provide them enough comfort to get some rest before they have to do this all over again tomorrow. Without him. Again.  

“I know baby, I'm so sorry. Wish I was there too”  

Aether smiles sadly though the phone. 

“Guess neither of us made too big a fool of ourselves though, maybe those pointless rehearsals weren't so pointless”  

Dew tries to joke, but Aether can see right through him. 

“Why didn't I see it?” 

Mountain mumbles into the space between Dew’s neck and shoulder that he’s crammed himself into. 

“What was that Hun?” 

Dew asks, rubbing the back of Mountain’s head where his hair had been tied back for the show. 

“The lift, I mean why didn’t I see it before. We practiced--Satan knows how many times-- just like you said, and I never once thought anything of it until tonight. Why'd it have to hit me in the middle of a fucking show. Probably made a dumbass of myself up there loosing time during the second to last song of the night... Was supposed to be perfect for Papa.”  

Mountain whispers the last part, but Dew and Aether are still able to catch it.  

Dew pulls Mountain closer to himself and Aether’s heart breaks, longing to reach out, to whisk those worries away. 

“Mountain, I didn't make the connection until tonight either. It was different. I dunno how, but it... was.”  

Dew silently curses himself for his lack of explanation, he knows that's what Mountain needs right now. Mountain needs logic. Something that tells him why something happened so he can avoid it next time. But truthfully Dew doesn't know. He doesn't know why tonight was different, but it was, and it fucked him up too. 

“I'm sure it had something to do with the crowd and the stage lights. I remember those helmets; you can't see shit in ‘em. Hearing people screaming, being blinded and burned by those lights, watching someone you care about, who holds the same title, in the same spot as one of the most traumatic events of your time topside. That’s probably why it was different. I know that doesn't change anything, but it does make a difference.”  

Aether adds.  

And logically Mountain knows Dew is right, that Aether is right. That it was different. But he still hates himself for faltering, even if no one else noticed.  

“Plus, I'm sure if you really did mess up, anything noticeably at least, we all would've gotten a smartass text from Swiss. I'm thinking something along the lines of ‘The All-Mighty Mountain Crumbles at the Sight of a Dangerously Handsome Multi's Hips"  

Aether jokes while drawing a rectangle in the air with his hands, mimicking a news headline, hoping to bring his mates back down to Earth.  

Dew giggles, a genuine giggle and Mountain huffs out a laugh. It isn't much, he knows that, but Aether has never been prouder of himself.  

They talk for a bit longer, until Mountain and Dew’s minds have cleared a bit and their eyes have returned to that deep forest green and the vibrant copper and ocean blue Aether had fallen so in love with, before any of this mattered.  

Mountain and Dew finally settle into their bed. Their position is awkward at best but they’re comfortable. They're Here. They have each other. Copia is alright. They're alright.  

And that's all that matters right now. 

All that can matter right now. 

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Rest Had Seemed The Sweetest Thing.

Bucky's slowly learning that love isn't a finite resource. aka, Bucky's first Christmas.

pairing - bucky barnes x female reader

warnings - none!! just tooth rottingly sweet fluff <3

word count - 1.7k

author's note - based on these two requests!! i'm also trying a new post format... what do we think?? I promised you i'd get a couple of xmas fics out before the 25th... I lied. apologies!! forgive me. title taken from the poem The Owl by Edward Thomas.

as always, if you enjoyed, please reblog!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics. thanks, angels <3

masterlist. inbox.

He whispers the words, timid and reserved, directly into your ear as if he's worried someone else will hear. It's only the two of you sat on the couch in your shared apartment, but Bucky's nervous.

Your head whips around in shock, trying to play it cool. Failed.

"Are you... are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

You grin, big and blinding, the beams of it radiating into Bucky's bones. It settles into his muscles, eases the tension from his shoulders.

You try not to make a big deal of it, try to keep your excitement under wraps. But you've been waiting for him to say those words for almost six years.

"I want to do Christmas this year."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

He hates the cold.

No, he's traumatised by the cold.

Years spent frozen, genetically modified and locked in a glorified freezer. Every gust of wind, every flake of snow reminds him of the darkest days with no light to be seen. His blood may run hot, but he feels like his heart is yet to thaw. He debates moving to the desert at least ten times a day.

Then he looks at you. How happy you are when winter comes around. The way your face lights up when it snows. And he figures that if it brings you this much joy... maybe he can tolerate it.

He bites back the chill, grits his teeth at the icy breeze, ignores the shudder of the cold all the way down to his bones. He grins and bears it, because you love it. He thinks you don't notice.

You do.

You've known ever since you met him. His demeanour changes when the winter comes around. He gets a little tentative around the autumn time, as if he's preparing himself for the worst. And then the first snow falls, and he's different. Guarded. Careful. Reluctant. He puts a fake smile on his face and pretends, but you're nothing if not completely in tune with everything Bucky Barnes.

You never asked, never pried. Just stood steadily by his side, regardless of the walls he'd placed around himself. Around his heart.

He broke down one night, wrapped up in bed with you. A chill had blown through your old apartments rickety windows and unearthed old memories, ice running into his veins. He was sure his tears were frozen as they dripped down his face.

You understood him better, since that day.

You've tried to suggest moving in subtle and not so subtle ways, but he won't have it. He knows this is your home. He knows you like it here. He knows he can stay, if he works a little harder on himself.

So, he tries. Every single day, he tries. And that's all that matters.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Okay, so... ground rules. Hit me, Buck. We do this on your terms."

He thinks for a moment before turning to face you.

"I want it to be just us. No one else."

"Done."

"And I don't wanna do the whole Christmas dinner thing. Feels like too much all at once."

You fight the urge to burst into tears at how easily he's communicating with you, how effortlessly he's enforcing his boundaries. You've come a long way.

"Done. Agreed, by the way. Fuck Christmas dinner. We'll do our own thing."

He grins at you, leaning in to kiss you slowly, tenderly, leisurely. Like you have all the time in the world.

"I want to get a tree. And lights. We don't have to do all the ornaments and stuff, but lights would be nice."

"I have an artificial tree in the back of the storage closet... is that okay?"

"Perfect. I don't want to stand on all the pine needles, anyway."

Laughing, you shift closer to him, tangling your legs together on the couch.

"And no gifts for me."

"But Buck-"

"Angel. I don't want anything. I have everything I need sat next to me."

You roll your eyes, but you can't wipe the smile off your face.

"This isn't fair, suddenly."

"It's plenty fair. You stress too much when you buy gifts, and this is going to be a stress free Christmas. Understood?"

He hooks his fingers under your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"Understood," you whisper, swinging your knee over so you're straddling him. "Stress free."

Bucky tilts his head up to kiss you, gentle at first, then firmer when you roll your hips into his. He's a little distracted, admittedly. He got you to promise not to get him anything, but made sure you wouldn't ask the same. His mind runs a mile a minute, trying to wrack his brain on what kind of gift to get for the love of his life, the person that saved him and continues to save him every single day.

He comes up empty, but lets you kiss the thoughts away for a little while.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"My mom taught me this specific way to hang lights on your tree. Look, grab this end and I'll show you."

You're both still in your pyjamas, fire roaring, a jazzy Christmas melody playing from the radio. You decided you wouldn't put up your tree until the day before, to save Bucky from feeling overwhelmed. It's worked, so far - he looks plenty relaxed as he chuckles and rises from the armchair.

"You're tall, so hold this above your head so they don't tangle."

You work diligently, bottom lip pulled between your teeth as you concentrate. Bucky's happy to watch you, fighting the smile off his face every time you sigh in exasperation. Eventually, you step back and admire your masterpiece, satisfied and content.

"It's beautiful, baby," he whispers, wrapping his arms around you from behind.

He presses a kiss into your neck, then another, then another. Your eyes slip closed, and you sink into his embrace, feeling more at peace than you ever thought possible. You spend the evening by the fire, lying on the rug, room illuminated by the lights on the tree.

It's perfect in every way.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Merry Christmas, angel."

"Merry Christmas, Buck."

His hand finds yours under the duvet, pulling you in close. You tangle yourself around him like lights on a tree, all encompassed by his warmth.

"What's the plan for today, Sergeant?"

He presses a kiss into your temple, propping himself up on his elbow so he can see you properly.

"I say we make some breakfast, spend all day on the couch, and then maybe make some dinner? I know we said we wouldn't do a traditional Christmas dinner, but it'd still be nice to take the time to cook something."

"That sounds perfect."

In the kitchen, you make pancakes with copious amounts of maple syrup, strawberries and pieces of banana strewn across your plates.

"My Mom made us pancakes every Christmas morning, you know."

"You've never told me that."

"I know. I kind of refrained from ever talking about anything festive, because I didn't want you to feel guilty."

"For making you miss out for so many years?"

"I haven't missed out, baby. I chose not to do Christmas because I love you. And that love takes precedent over everything else."

Bucky kisses you then, across the kitchen table, full and golden and so full of love you almost fall off your chair. He tastes like blueberry jam and syrup and coffee, and you wish you could bottle it up and stick a little under your tongue when you get homesick.

"What changed?"

"Hmm?"

"Why now? I would have been content to never do Christmas again, if it made you happy."

"Because I realised something, a couple of months ago. We were sat in the park, and you were laughing at that dog chasing the boomerang. The sun was making you glow, like some sort of angel, and I just knew. I can do anything with you by my side. I can't put my future on hold because of my past."

You're fighting back tears as you look at him, so happy and content. You never thought this was possible, when you first met him.

And here you are.

Celebrating Christmas, showing him your childhood traditions, making pancakes like your Mama used to. You're sat at the kitchen table as the snow falls outside and the warmth that Bucky's love brings is keeping the chill at bay.

It doesn't get better than this.

"I got you something," he murmurs almost sheepishly.

"Bucky-"

"Don't yell at me! I know it makes me a hypocrite, I know I said no gifts, I know."

You roll your eyes, but watch his every move as he gets up and leaves the room. You finish your breakfast and put both of your plates in the sink, turning on the tap so they can soak. When you turn around, Bucky has returned.

He's on one knee.

There's a ring between his fingers, glinting in the winter sun. You're both still in your pyjamas, warm and full, not quite having shaken off the heavy embrace of sleep just yet.

It's perfect.

"Maybe it's cliche to propose on Christmas day, but... I want to replace all of my old memories with new ones. Memories like this."

You walk over to him, kneeling down in front of him so your eyes are level.

"You've taught me what love is, baby. And I can never repay you for that. But I can certainly try. Every day, I can try."

There are tears dripping down both of your cheeks, Bucky's grin matching yours. The two of you are overwhelmed in the best way, unsure of how to process the gravity of what you're feeling.

"Marry me, baby. Let's do this forever."

You lunge forward and smash your lips to his, laughing into his mouth.

"Yes," you breathe when you pull away. "God, yes. A million times yes, Buck."

His arms wrap around your middle as he picks you up, twirling you in circles around the kitchen, both of you shrieking with joy.

Bucky slips the ring onto your finger when he puts you down, both of you tilting your heads to admire it.

"I love you," you murmur, leaning up to press your foreheads together. "The cold can't touch you now, baby. This love will warm us forever."

The cold can't touch him now. Love will warm him forever.

@lizzystuffsthings <3

[pickingupmymercedes]

Hardest truth (2/3) - Lewis Hamilton

Sequence: It comes with the territory / Hardest truth / Not even ours

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: angst, self image problems

wordcount: +1k

a/n: Full blown angst. This is turning into a sad story, I couldn't help it.

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

Y/n could hear Lewis’s voice, asking her something, but her thoughts were too loud.

How could she keep up with this? How could she love someone as deeply as she loved him when she didn’t even recognize the woman staring back in the mirror?

“Y/n,” Lewis’s voice cut through her haze, his tone gentle but insistent. “Are you leaving me?”

The weight of his words hit her like a punch to the gut. She blinked, looking at his reflection but feeling miles away.

The truth was, she didn’t know the answer.

His question sent her spiraling back moments that had brought them here, into the darkest corners of her insecurities, where she felt more like a shadow than the person she used to be.

The room felt smaller than usual, its corners dark and closing in on Y/n.

She’d been to those hotel rooms countless times, with friends laughing, drinks flowing—back when she felt like she belonged in places like this.

But that night, Y/n stared blankly at the mirror, the sound of Lewis’s shower in the background like white noise, reminding her of all the things she no longer could willingly recognize as background noise, things she couldn’t even discern about herself.

A message from her friend lit up the phone screen, the words tugging at the invisible thread between her sanity and her heart.

Are you ever coming out again, or are you officially MIA forever?

She swallowed hard, hesitating before typing back a half-hearted excuse about why she had flown away to another GP.

But the truth lay there, right beneath the surface, glaringly obvious. She hadn’t been out with them in months.

She also hadn’t been herself in months.

Her heart sank as she stared at the empty screen, feeling the weight of what she couldn’t admit to myself.

She wasn’t avoiding them because she was busy. She was avoiding them because she didn’t recognize who she was anymore when around them—around anyone, really.

The bathroom door opened, steam wafting out as Lewis stepped into the room, towel draped loosely around his hips. He looked at her, a soft smile on his face, but his eyes were searching.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low and full of concern.

She forced a smile. “Yeah, just... long day.”

He nodded slowly, but his gaze lingered on me, like he could see past her words.

Lewis had always been good at reading between the lines, especially the ones she tried so hard to hide.

“Take it easy tonight. You’ve been pushing yourself too much.” he said, walking over to her and brushing his hand across her shoulder.

The warmth of his touch soothed the tension in her muscles, but it didn’t reach much deeper into the ache inside.

They were having dinner when it happened again.

The words left her mouth before she could stop them, sharp and cutting, laced with frustration.

It was over something small—something trivial, really. Lewis had forgotten to tell her about a last-minute appearance, and she was left scrambling to adjust plans.

It was hardly his fault, but her voice rose, her anger disproportionate to the situation.

“I don’t know why you can’t just—” She stopped mid-sentence, the heat of the moment dissipating as quickly as it had ignited.

She blinked, suddenly feeling the weight of her own words, and the person who had just spoken didn’t sound like her.

It wasn’t her.

Lewis didn’t react right away. He just sat there, his fork frozen mid-air, his eyes steady and calm, as if he knew exactly what was happening.

“Y/n,” he said softly, setting his fork down, his eyes locking with hers. “This... it’s not about the appearance, is it?”

She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

He was right, of course.

It was about all the things she hadn’t been able to say—about the parts of her that had slowly been slipping away, swallowed up by the pressures and insecurities she didn’t know how to deal with.

“I don’t know what’s happening to me” She finally whispered, her voice breaking. “I just... I don’t feel like myself anymore.”

Lewis reached across the table, his hand finding hers. “You’re still you, Y/n. You’re just... We’ll figure it out.”

She squeezed his hand, trying to believe him, but a part of her had already started to retreat.

His reassurance, as gentle and sincere as it was, felt like a bandage over a gaping wound.

Then another day, another comment. Another reminder of the person she was supposed to be.

She scrolled through her phone, the photos of Lewis and her at an event plastered across social media. The comments digging deeper into my skin.

She doesn’t even look like she belongs there.

She’s changed so much since she started dating him.

I miss the old Y/n.

She closed my eyes, the phone slipping from her hands as she leaned back against the couch.

She didn’t need strangers on the internet to tell her she wasn’t the same.

She felt it every day, in every interaction, every smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

The couch dipped beside her, and she felt Lewis’s arm slip around her shoulders.

He didn’t say anything—he just sat there, his presence a quiet comfort.

But it didn’t change the gnawing feeling inside her, the one that kept reminding her she was losing herself, piece by piece.

“Y/n,” he murmured after a long silence, his voice barely above a whisper. “Talk to me.”

“I can’t” she said, her voice shaking. “I don’t even know where to start.”

He sighed, his hand gently rubbing circles on her arm. “I know this is hard. I’ve... been there too. Feeling like you don’t know who you are anymore. But I promise you, we’ll get through this together.”

And she wanted to believe him.

She wanted to believe that love could fix this, that Lewis could somehow pull her back from the edge.

But the truth was, she didn’t even know how to save herself.

And their love, as strong as it was, couldn’t teach her how.

Then that night.

It was supposed to be a fun. An event they’d been looking forward to for weeks.

But as she walked into the venue, surrounded by people she didn’t recognize and flashing cameras, the familiar wave of unease washed over her.

She smiled, posed, did all the things she was supposed to do, but inside, she was crumbling.

She could feel the eyes on her, the whispers behind her back, the comparisons to everyone else in the room.

By the time the night was over, she was emotionally drained.

She collapsed onto the bench of the bedroom as soon as they got to his home, her face locked into her reflection in the mirror.

Lewis sat beside her, his hand resting gently on her back. “Rough night?”

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Tears pricked at her eyes, but she blinked them away, refusing to let them fall.

“It’s getting harder, isn’t it?” he asked, his voice soft.

She nodded again, feeling the tightness in her chest.

“Y/n,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “I’m worried about you. I don’t know what to do... how to help.”

She looked at him through tear-blurred eyes. “I don’t think you can help, Lewis. I don’t even know if I can help.”

His face fell, his eyes full of fear. And in that moment, she realized what she had been so afraid to admit for so long.

She was losing herself. And no matter how much they loved each other, she didn’t think their love was enough to save her.

She met Lewis’s gaze, her heart heavy with the knowledge that she was standing on the edge of a cliff, and the only way to save herself was to let go.

She didn’t want to hurt him. She loved him more than she had ever loved anyone, but how could she love him the way he deserved when she couldn’t even love herself?

“I’m scared” she finally said, her voice quiet but steady. “I think... I think I’m losing myself.”

Lewis looked at her, his eyes full of understanding and pain. He nodded painfully slowly, reaching out to take her hand. “I know…And I’m scared too.”

For a moment, they sat in silence, their hands entwined, both of them finally understading that the love they shared wasn’t enough to fix what was broken inside her.

And maybe, just maybe, that was the hardest truth of all.

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @itsmrshamilton @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora @goldenroutledge @timmychalametsstuff @jpgnsf

@priopp123 @strqirlhrts @hmmmmm-01 @bisexual-babygirl-mj @bebesobrielo

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[bigdealsgoddog]

Dozing Duty

Observation duty au

Anomoly!Gun park x Security!reader

word count- 3k

content warnings- stalking, threats, choking, cnc, overstimulation, scratching, biting, degradation, monster(?) fucking, bondage(Kind of?)

   You cursed lowly as you could have sworn you saw something flicker against the security screens and lean back in your seat, a loud creak following as you shifted in the chair. It was an annoying reminder for how long you’d been sitting in the same position considering you couldn't remember the last time you heard the sound. It was all just the same thing hours on end, staring at the unmoving and unchanging screens.

    Sure, on occasion there was the flicker of the lights, video distorting and objects moving-the usual reports.

  But you hadn't gotten the usual reports.

    At least not the last few nights. The last few nights you could’ve sworn you kept seeing some figure-some shadow moving across the screens and even hiding in the darkest corners, making it feel like someone was there, that someone was watching you yet anytime you looked-there was nothing. No one there and no anomaly to report. So you’d move on, put your focus on other things like if that chair was always turned to the left or did it really move thirty degrees? You let out a frustrated groan as you rubbed your tired eyes and looked at the clock. ‘Three in the morning, great.’ was all you could think as your eyes slowly traveled back to the screen, locking with the eyes staring right into yours. Your breath hitched and your eyes widened as you realized there was now a figure standing in the middle of the room, staring at you. For some reason it seemed like he didn’t even have a physical form, his body moving and swaying on the video screen almost as if he was fading in and out of the video.

     You didn’t know what to do in that moment, you were frozen in fear as you felt the figures eyes piercing your soul-two little white dots that looked brighter than any flashlight ever could. It wasn’t until the figure was now stepping closer to you-to the camera that your hand flew to the report button, speedily typing in a human like anomaly and before you knew it the video screen went down as the anomaly was being ‘taken care of’.

   The screen came back to life, showing the same boring room as before and the breath you didn’t realize you were holding slowly let itself out. Maybe you should believe your boss more, what could these anomalies even do? You were in the comfort of a security office in a completely different location from the one you were surveying so there was no way any harm could come to you.

..

….

Right?

It wasn’t until you had finally put your guard down and relaxed that you felt a cold hand place itself on your shoulder. Your stomach dropped and your body tensed up, your mind racing a mile a minute wondering who the hell it could be, the door was locked nobody should have gotten in in fact there shouldn't have been anyone in the building for that matter you were told the only people around you especially at this time was the guards at the front gates to make sure no one would enter the building so you should have gotten a call that someone came in right? Maybe they forgot to call or you missed the call but you haven't left your desk and-

    “I don’t like being ignored. It was a cute stunt you tried pulling-thinking pressing that little button would do anything to me but now you’re ignoring me?” Your other shoulder became cold as you felt the persons other hand grab it. Their voice, their hands-it was so unnatural their voice came out confident and low but it almost sounded layered, like not just one person was speaking but multiple, coming in hushed tones, faster yet also slower than the original speaker and their hands-they felt like a corpse- you could almost feel bile rising up from your stomach as you refused to look at them 

    “What do you want?” You tried to sound confident and level headed but even you could hear the shakiness and fear in your voice all the while the person was chuckling at you.

  “What a stupid little thing you are-i’ll let you take one guess what I want-it’s simple really” You had to fight the chill going down your spine when the person started running his fingers through your hair, seeming to be enjoying your discomfort “although…how about this, get it right for a reward-get it wrong and i’ll tell you but you’ll have to suffer the consequences after.”

 Consequences? You didn’t even know what this thing was let alone what it would or could do to you if you happen to guess wrong. 

   “I don’t-how am I supposed to guess when I don’t even know who or what you are” You tried to bargain, your voice sounding hesitant as you tried to buy yourself a little time or at least a little more guessing room. You didn’t want to find out what those consequences might mean. You heard another chuckle-this one not sounding as layered-maybe a little…a little more genuine? They’re-his voice came out clear now-less layered and more..human more…much more gruff

   “Alright then.” As your chair spun around, you could see the shadows fall of what was the previous figure revealing a handsome young man, his eyes still carrying that pitch black darkness that pierced into your soul but his forearms were covered in tattoos, revealed by the slick black button rolled up to his elbows. He had matching inky black pants and shoes that almost seemed to blend into the floor and yeah maybe you are tired but you’re certain that even if the lights were on you’d assume he was melting into the floor. He grabbed your armrest to stop the chair, both of his arms are on either side of you and effectively caging you in. “Gun. Now guess.”

   Wait, gun? What the fuck did he mean by gun? Was that a part of a threat? “I-uh-i-i-” You stuttered, your thoughts were going a mile a minute and even though you were noting that this man was incredibly attractive it was almost being drowned out by the millions of other thoughts racing through your head. 

  “I-i-i-is not an answer” He grabbed you by your chin, forcing you to look up at him when you looked away, trying to think of something-anything really “Answer it.”

  “Um-money?” You hesitated, the only possible reason could be he was trying to rob the place? But why the hell would some shadowy figure of darkness want money? In fact what the hell would a shadowy figure of darkness even want? You were regretting your choice-especially when he started to chuckle again, shaking his head as you could see a grin starting to form on his face, scrunching up the x scar on his nose just a bit as his smile grew wider.

   “Wrong.” He cooed as you began to shake, his hand coming up in an almost comforting manner on your cheek “I wanted a new toy. So now you’ll be my new toy-as punishment of course.”

   “What do you mean by toy?” You weren’t comforted in the slightest by the action, much more concerned by what he meant. 

  “Exactly what I mean, a new toy. A new toy to play with” His hand trailed to your neck and shoulder-almost like he was petting you “To tease” His nails lightly dragged from your shoulder to the base of your neck, sending shivers down your spine as his nails lightly scratched the your scalp at the base of your neck and carding through your hair “And to break” He suddenly tugged on your hair, making you gasp and let out noise that sounded close to a moan. He smirked as your face went bright red and your eyes widened but before you could say anything, he captured your mouth in a bruising kiss, nipping and biting at your lips as his other hand snuck into your shirt. You gasped, opening your mouth and letting him immediately start to explore, completely overwhelming you with him and only him. You tried to get a grip on the situation, reaching out and grabbing the man’s shirt while he completely overpowered you, only pulling away to let you get a breath of fresh air before immediately going back in. 

   It was hard to keep track, somehow you could feel his hands on the back of your head, under your shirt, creeping into your pants and even grabbing at your wrists, it was all so dizzying even when he pulled away to start biting and sucking at your neck and not sparing any mercy like he had with your lips. 

    “Wait-wait stop-” You tried to say breathlessly, just barely grabbing the mans attention as he acknowledged you with a grunt “I still don't know you-you’re name-what do you mean by-” You let out a whine as he bit down on the sweet spot on your neck, squirming in the chair and making even more hands grab at your waist, holding you in place. 

   “I already told you you stupid toy. '' He pulled away, licking at the dark mark he left behind to look up at you “My name is Gun. Now enough of the twenty questions.” He pulled off your shirt before pulling you up out of the chair, hands grabbing your wrists to hold them high above your head as he made quick work of your pants. You looked up to try to see what was holding your wrists only to see that familiar inky blackness around your wrists. It must’ve been him-that eerie feeling of being watched constantly on your back, it had to have been him. How long has he been watching you?

   Before you knew it you were completely bare in front of Gun as he stepped back to admire the frazzled and confused mess you had become already. His spit still coated your lips, swollen and a little bruised and didn’t look any better than how your neck was practically sporting a new polka dot pattern. “You’ve just looked so bored sitting in that chair, staring back at me all day. Did you even know I've been watching you all this time?” He started walking around you, getting a full view of your body. “I’ve heard you groaning and moaning for something to entertain you. Is this entertaining enough for you?” He finished his question with a sharp smack to your ass, making you yelp “You thought you’ve been all alone this whole time-poor little thing.” He grinned and smacked your ass again but harder, as you let out a cry you felt a cold pressure cover your mouth, wisps of shadow poking in your line of sight and you realized he had completely silenced you. “It really is a good thing were mostly alone here-im sure if those stupid guards were any closer they would’ve heard your pathetic whining” He moved up closer to you, his whole body enveloping you as his arm reached around you to start playing with your chest, his other hand resting on your stomach before it slowly started trailing lower and lower, making you whimper and squirm. 

    “When im done with you you wont even have a voice to scream with” His voice came out much more sinister than it had and before you knew it he had you bet over, the shadows still holding your wrists up but behind your back. He made quick work to spit on his fingers before tracing your hole, smirking as you continued to squirm more, trying to get him to push his fingers in “What a little slut you are, first you were terrified of me and now you’re whining for more? That’s pathetic really” He snickered, teasing his finger into the first knuckle before pulling right out, tracing around and around once more. “Are all humans as needy and horny as you?” He teased, leaning over you and making you feel even more trapped-not like you could do anything before this anyway. You were screwed the moment gun set his sights on you. You could feel the frustration building in your stomach as he continued to tease you, your legs shifting and moving as you tried to give yourself relief or finally convince him to give you more when suddenly he pushed three fingers down to the last knuckle inside of you, making you tense and arch your back with a whine from the stretch. “Don’t take it back now, I saw how you were practically begging me to fuck you the way you’re moving around. I felt you twitching on my finger” He said snarkily as he started to pump his fingers into you. You couldn’t remember when he took the shadows away from your mouth, all you could think about was how loud you must be with all your moaning and you were praying the guards would stay by the door and not try to check on you. 

    His hand came around to wrap around your throat, giving a firm squeeze and cutting off your sounds and air. Your stomach started to tighten up as he found your g spot, slamming into it over and over and it all became overwhelming and dizzying again. There wasn’t any point to try to keep any thoughts in your head because he was effectively cutting them all off and filling everything in with him-just him. You tried to warn, to say something but you're certain the way your walls convulsed around his fingers was enough warning you were about to cum. He let go of your throat, allowing you to suck in a big gulp of air right before you cried out, a loud moan as your orgasm slammed over you. His now free hand was cracking another hard smack on your ass before gripping it tight enough his nails were leaving marks in the skin. You tightened up around him as he did it, your hips jerking into his hand as your body was chasing the pleasure. 

   Thankfully, he pulled his hand away only to start tracing the head of his dick at your entrance and making you let out a whimper “No-no please wait I can’t handle it yet-i need-i need a minute-” 

  “No you don’t” His words came out more layered and distorted like they had before, like he was on the very edge of controlling himself before starting to push his entire length into you. Your mouth fell open in a silent moan as he continued to stretch you seemingly beyond your limits. It was the most full you’d felt until he kept pushing and pushing and pushing “Too much! Too much you’re too big-can’t take anymore-” You could feel the harsh slaps on your ass once more, a choked cry escaping you as he just kept smacking until a nice red hand print was left behind “You’re gonna take all of it. It’s part of your punishment, remember? I told you you would face the consequences.” He finally pushed himself all the way in with a groan, wrapping his arms around you to hold you in place once the shadows had finally let go of your wrists. Your arms fell to your sides like limp noodles, little to no circulation left in them but it was the least of your worries when gun had pulled out and quickly slammed back in, setting a pace that was hard for you to keep up. You weakly tried lifting your arms, putting your hands against the wall in an attempt to brace yourself but it didn't matter, guns thrusts were hard enough to push your cheek into the wall, pressing you harder and harder against the wall as you tried to lift yourself up, pushing against the wall really anything. 

   You could feel his nails claw against your thighs and you spread your legs more for him despite your overstimulated body trying to tell you otherwise. You could hear him curse under his breath before reaching around to start teasing and playing with you again, bringing you closer to your next orgasm “Cum-you better fucking cum on my dick before I cum-hurry it up you’re so fucking tight” He let out a low moan that sounded like music to your ears and you tightened around him, trying to pull yourself together but instead unraveling around him like he commanded. He let out another groan before he pulled out of you, spinning you around before pressing you up against your desk, lifting you up and spreading your legs before he was already pushing back into you, his hand quickly moving to wrap around your throat once more. 

    Your body shook as he continued, proving to not have been nearly as close as you had already been. He looked up at you, making eye contact for the first time since he reappeared in front of you outside of the screen like he had. He leaned in to capture your lips in a breathless kiss as he worked himself up to his own orgasm, thrusting into you deep enough for you to practically feel him in your lungs. Tears started to well up in your eyes before they fell from your cheeks-everything being just too overwhelming and before it could get any more intense-

   Suddenly you were sitting in your chair again, fully dressed and untouched. You blinked the dazed and confused expression away, brought back to reality by the security guard that had opened the door to your ‘office’

   “You should know better than to be sleeping on the job. If you can’t handle this, go home-we need eyes on that screen at all times.”   “Right-right im sorry-sorry-” You mumbled, rubbing your face as the guard gave you an odd look before shaking his head and walking away. Shaking your head and hands out you decided it was probably just a wild dream due to your sex life not being so active as of late. Until you looked at the screen and felt your chest tighten, the heat rising to your cheeks as you read the ten words that weren’t immediately noticeable had appeared by one of the corners you had been observing earlier.

  “We’re not done, I didn’t finish playing with my toy”

[diana-rose-25]

☆Hidden Divination Teaser

pairing/s: Hashira! Kyojuro Rengoku x Hashira! Reader (for a brief time), Hashira! Sanemi Shinazugawa x Hashira! Reader

warnings: dead dove do not eat themes: brief description of pedophilia, miscarriage, child abuse, child endagerment, child marriage, child pregnancy, death, mentions of sexual s/a, mentions of ptsd, panic and anxiety attacks, miscarriage

description: How can you make noise in an empty can? How can you write with no ink? How can you live without a will? How can you have hope in a world that has relentlessly failed you over and over again? How is (Y/N) still alive after everything? It's a gift, a blessing, as most would say that she is still alive and kind. "She feels like the warm sunshine after the rain," "always smiling, always so lovely," most would describe, yet a certain Wind Hashira will say otherwise. Not because he disagrees, but because he knows — he saw — how a woman everyone says is almost invincible and gifted and warm, has her hidden storm beneath the sky.

Warning: Mentions of past s/a, child abuse, child pregnancy, miscarriage, pedophilia.

“I got pregnant when I was twelve.”

Sanemi was surprised his head was still intact to his neck at how he turned beside the girl so fast. The air surrounding the two of them became heavy with the confession. The white-haired man could only stare silently at the girl with wide eyes, frozen in place, feeling mixed emotions of disgust, anger, (not towards her, of course) and sadness.

"I got pregnant by a much older yet non the wiser man back in my village."

The two of them sat at the porch on one of the Wisteria Mansions provided by the corps for recovery after missions. There are no bruises or cuts that litter their bodies anywhere. They didn't even face any demons this day. Yet, in Sanemi's opinion, this has been one of the hardest and most painful mission he has ever encountered yet.

He wishes Masachika is here with them. He's far better than Sanemi with these heavy emotional encounters, but he's sent on another mission, leaving him to deal with this alone.

The two of them sat side by side, a three feet distance between the two of them. The girl, no older than fifteen, sat with her legs together, back straight, with her hands folded on top of her lap. She's sitting there so quiet and serene, as if she didn't drop the deepest, darkest lore of her origin seconds ago.

Sanemi felt his fingers twitch — to reach out to her and comfort her, or find the damned man who did those unspeakable things to her, he didn't know.

(Y/N) didn't look at him, her gaze focused on the sky above them. It is a wonderful night. There are no clouds that can hide the view of the stars that shine above them, the luminescent light of the full moon, it is heartbreakingly beautiful this silent, serene night. Try as she might hide it, the beautiful night sky also can not conceal the tears that pool her beautiful eyes despite the small smile on her face.

"I lost the babe when he pushed me down the stairs."

He swallowed the lump on his throat painfully, lips parting and closing again as he tried to find the words that are appropriate in this situation.

Sanemi couldn't remember what led to this moment. Maybe it was the mission earlier, maybe its been bottled up for so long that she had to share it with someone, or maybe she's starting to trust him now after a year of joining the corps. He didn't know. Sanemi didn't know many things, and he isn't certain about all the things he knows, but one thing for certain is that he's not going away any time soon.

A gentle breeze caused (Y/N) to close her eyes, welcoming the gentle wind to cress her face in a sense of comfort, and brushes her hair away from her face and wrap her in a cold hug.

For the millionth time that day, Sanemi's heart broke at the familiarity of it all. A long time ago, this exact same scenario happened to a sweet, kind, and beautiful woman who didn't deserve any of it. They had done nothing in their lives to deserve any of this. Nobody deserves the lives they've lived.

(Y/N) felt his presence come closer with caution, as if she's a gazelle that would scatter away if he moved too suddenly. Her eyes are still closed as her smile grows a little. She didn't mind his presence. If anything, she felt safe around him the moment her corps fitting disaster. She knew he wouldn't do anything that would cause her discomfort.

So it came as a pleasant surprise when she felt a caloused yet comforting hand rest on top of hers. (Y/N) opened her eyes and turns her head slowly to face the white-haired man beside her.

Sanemi's lips parted when her eyes met his, it was filled with so much pain and agony as much as it was beautiful. When she didn't pull away, he grips her hand a bit more tightly — not enough to inflict pain, but enough to provide that secure comfort (Y/N) could not find anywhere else other than her father figure Gyomei.

With much needed courage, Sanemi brought his other hand on top of her head, patting it gently with a rare smile, albeit pained.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N)."

It wasn't his fault. He had no need to say sorry to what happened to her in the past. He wasn't there, and he didn't have any part to play in it. Those words had never much impact on her, used to that comment with the select few she shared her story with, but with the way he said so sincere and soft, salty tears unknowingly ran down her face.

(Y/N)'s body shakes into a full sob the moment Sanemi pulled her closer in an embrace, holding her tightly as she falls apart right in front of him.

Yes, there is no more doubt in her mind. Underneath the cold sky and with the stars and moon as witnesses, here in his arms, (Y/N) had never felt more safe and protected.

I do not own Demon Slayer (Kimetsu no Yaiba) and their characters.

divider by @xxbimbobunnyxx and @inkedreverie

— ©All Rights Reserved @diana-rose-25

[strawberrystepmom]

cw omegaverse, cw yandere, cw predator prey dynamics. f!omega reader, alpha!geto. wc 698

pt. 2

“Fuck,” you mutter to no one in particular while inspecting the ingredients label of a jar of sesame paste to try and hide the flush that you know is painting your cheeks and the bridge of your nose crimson.

It has been a long time since you’ve felt like this and your hand shakes as you barely hold onto the jar enough to slide it onto the shelf in front of you.

You don’t even need sesame paste, you just need a distraction. Something to keep you from focusing on the twist of your stomach and the sweat prickling across your hairline and the back of your neck.

Today was clearly not the day to forego your heat suppressant, limbs feeling simultaneously light as air and heavy as lead as you drag your feet down the aisle with a basket dangling from the crook of your elbow. Your head hurts, your senses are dulled, but you don’t miss the clearing of a throat behind you nor the way it makes the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.

“Excuse me?”

The voice is rich as the cake you allowed yourself to indulge in on your last birthday and it wraps around you like a velvet ribbon. As if you cannot control yourself, you turn your head and gasp looking at the man who is beckoning you in a way that makes you feel completely out of body.

He’s tall, his raven hair spills across his shoulders, and his broad chest blocks out the sight of anyone on either side of him. Swallowing but your throat feels more dry after doing so somehow, your pulse speeds up as realization dawns.

Alpha. This man, Suguru Geto, is an alpha.

“I’m sorry, I know this is a strange thing to ask, but are you…” he trails off, indicating you should know what he’s asking, but your blank stare tells him otherwise. Your eyes are narrowed but suspiciously glossy and he knows, instinctively, the answer is yes.

You are an omega standing in the middle of a busy grocery store filling the entire place with the aroma of bergamot and vanilla. Unbonded, he can tell as his dark eyes dip downward and check out the contents of your small basket - all for one, he can tell. No ring. No visible mating mark.

Brave or stupid, he can’t tell which.

Your scent is overwhelmingly sensual to the man, his mouth filling with saliva if he dares inhale too deeply, and he can feel his natural urges overtaking any sense he has left in your presence.

“Forgot my suppressants for a couple of days,” you clarify with an embarrassed whisper, eyes still narrowed despite the pull you feel to go to him - to give to him - and you take a step backward to put distance between your bodies, giving yourself a victory in the battle of wills.

“Better be careful being out here then, you’re bound to catch a lot of attention.”

His voice is just as velvety despite the low note of warning in it and if you were less controlled by your base urges in this moment, you’d bare your teeth in an overly polite smile and walk away. Right now, though, you are frozen in place and your eyes meet his. They are molten bronze framed by the darkest lashes you’ve ever seen and you’ve never felt as pinned as you do right now, beneath his gaze.

Like a frightened rabbit, you become skittish. Two further steps backward put even more space behind you and you turn on your heel, eyes wide as you look over your shoulder to have the last word.

“Thank you for your concern but I’ll be fine.”

He nods politely and plasters on a serene smile, inhaling just deep enough that his pupils dilate after another overwhelming rush of you inside his head.

“Take care,” he raises his voice to speak back and you shiver, stomach twisting even more as you fumble your way toward the checkout and force yourself to keep looking forward to prevent running back in his direction.

You’ll be back in a day or two, Suguru assumes, and his alpha instincts rarely fail when it comes to getting what he wants and he’s more than content to wait.

[ljot-lair]

This is the first commission for Niraven - dragon named Wanderer. He has really cool biography btw! After a powerful sandstorm, Wanderer was barely able to get out from under the pile of sand. He stared in disbelief into the empty eye sockets of his own skull mask. There was a kind of doom in this frozen desert silence, which made him freeze for several minutes, catching glimpses of how he tried to hide from the storm. The desert is merciless and does not tolerate weakness - is this dead look of the skull another test of his will? He shook his head and put aside heavy thoughts, and right after he suddenly noticed what an endless velvety sky stretched above his head - sparks of stars burned on it like tiny fireflies. Well, it is true that the most wonderful moments of life really come after the darkest hour.

[lokisgoodgirl]

The Prince is Dead [Asgard!Loki x Reader]

A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Shaken by Loki's death on Svartálfheim, you confront the one you blame the most. Odin. (w/c 1.9k) Warnings: Angst. Set between TDW and Ragnarok. Mentions of death. Heartbreak. Violent imagery. Melt to fluff (implied)

The sun still rose in the North and set in the South, the way it always did. Clattering swords rang from the training ground, each echo of distant laughter another stake through your chest. But Asgard's golden turrets would still shine garishly in the morning light. As ever it was, so it shall be.

You wrapped a thin shawl tighter around your arms. The Prince is dead, you thought, biting back a sigh. The majestic façade was dulled behind the drape of your mourning veil, grey and lifeless. Or perhaps, you just finally saw things as they truly were.

Five moons had since risen and ebbed while you had lain half-alive in your chambers. Sleep descended in snatches, an unwelcome friend. And of course, you had dreamt of him.

His shadowed smile glancing back as he led you through winding palace paths. His face turned to the ceiling in the bed you shared, frozen in anguish. Bloodless with deep blue veins wound in spider patterns across lifeless cheeks. Or his kiss fastening to your own, a loving whisper of your name on warm lips as he melted into you. When you would wake, that dream was the worst of all.

The Prince is dead, a guard had told you with no emotion. With no sympathy. You had waited until he had retreated to sink to your knees, body racking with silent, violent sobs. No one had seen you cry, though. Loki would have approved.

You assumed that your place within the palace was forfeit. By tradition, you should have been removed immediately. Perhaps Thor had intervened to allow a period of mourning. If he had, it would be the one decent thing he's ever done. You pondered that thought bitterly for a moment, wishing he'd used that sliver of kindness to bring Loki's body home instead.

But either way, it didn't matter now.

You inhaled shakily while nervous fingers wound through the thick fabric of your skirts. To anyone else, they would look black. But in truth they were the deepest, darkest green. A waft of fragrant spice rolled on the wind across the balustrade from the markets, heating the cool air. Gods, how you missed him.

The anger, you would admit, had taken you by surprise. When your face wasn't buried in Loki's pillow, inhaling his waning scent between shuddering tears - it was anger. Only that.

It was anger that had brought the fine Asgardian sculptures in your rooms to their undignified end. Anger that fuelled the plot which burned and blossomed in your mind while shadows danced the walls. Anger that urged to you don silken armour this morning, to parade yourself as bait.

It was anger that kept your head high while you rode the whispers following you like smoke. Anger, you had found, was more of a comfort than remembering. A locket bearing Loki's initial hid beneath your bodice, blossoms from the tree beneath which he had first kissed you preserved inside. A gift. One of his prize daggers was strapped to your thigh, and with every step to your final destination, the cool blade kissed your skin.

Your fingertips steadied on the balustrade wall as a ceremonial clatter of guards approached. Eyes fixed on the old town, you composed yourself. The breeze made the dark veil flutter. There was a single heavy clang as twenty spears hit the marble floor in unison. A growl of stand back broke the heavy silence. The guards complied.

"Why do you mourn him so?" a voice rasped. "You are finally free."

The King's words were thick as he rustled beside your shoulder. Beneath the veil, your frown deepened. "Even from you Allfather, I would expect more sensitivity." you muttered. Odin drew up to his full height, observing the spread of his kingdom with a sanctimonious smirk. Patience, you thought. The absence of your bow was treasonous, and it would have been noted. He let out a forced laugh, meaty hands clasping behind his back. "I expect you may have thought that you loved him. But you did not know him as I did."

"You're right, I didn't."

It was surprising how easily the words came. Strong and clear and crisp. "I knew his heart."

Odin chuckled. "His heart," he mocked. "That you think he had one betrays your naivety. Go, now. Be free."

Bravery welled in your belly like a swollen river, pushing a prick of tears to your eyes. You felt like you might burst. You were suddenly glad the old fuck couldn't see your face.

Patience.

With a god, time was something that could be counted on. Or, it should be. Time to grow and love and to be free. That was the plan for you and Loki. But now, time stretched before you like an endless, lonley void. A sentence. Odin and his arrogance had seen to that.

"You forget yourself Odin, son of Bor," you said; and for a moment, he looked genuinely shocked. Or is he impressed, you thought fleetingly.

"You lost a son-"

You raised a hand as his cracked lips began to move in predictable denial. "A son." you repeated firmly.

The word hung thick between you. "Asgard lost not just a Prince, it lost a protector. The one that shielded them from this palace and its ruler's whims."

Odin was silent.

"And I lost-"

A lump rose in your throat. Everything.

"I know what you lost, " the King spat. "The chance to be queen by the unsurper's side once he had slain the true heir. The chance to wallow in finery and filth encrusted sheets while that disgraced Jotun defiled you at any time of the day or night. Plotting."

You shook your head. And you couldn't help it. You laughed.

"For all your years, you know nothing. Nothing about truth, or destiny, or love. I see that now-"

"Love," Odin scoffed, cutting in." If you loved him, you were the only one who ever did. "

"I love him still," you murmured, turning towards the rolling mountains. Your fingers played at the hilt of the dagger through the slit in your gown. "Forget him." Odin sniffed, waving a hand. "You will be the better for it, we all will."

His loaded dismissal blew away any lingering doubt.

Loki's face flashed behind your eyelids, a vision of the day he had finally let you in to his solitary world. Golden specks of dust had swirled within a single beam of amber light cutting through the healing room. He had sat perched on a single bed, elbows resting on his knees. Despite the lengthy battle, his skin glowed luminous in the dying song of day. Deep wounds streaked across his stomach and ribs and back, purple bruises marring his skin like the darkest storm-clouds. His leather armour lay in a ragged pile by his feet. Blood crept from its crevices, seeping into the cracks of the stone floor.

You had cried then, too. Only once.

"It will heal," he had said, cupping your cheek with a strained smile. "Do not waste your worry."

"I can't help it," you'd replied, tracing your fingertips over a gash in his side. Loki had winced. As you watched, the skin began to stretch and meld millimetre by millimetre. "You shall have to become more stoic if you are to be my wife one day," Loki smiled. There was a pause, before he frowned. "Does it make you feel better? The worry?"

"Yes," you had answered truthfully. You curled a lock of damp hair behind his ear. Someone has to worry for you, you'd thought. Loki smiled again. "Then I'll allow it," he murmured softly, before pressing a kiss to your forehead. And he did.

A silent tear rolled down your cheek as your fingers crept around the daggers hilt. The peace of the realm would soon be broken. Wails of anguish would rinse the clouds, public displays of grief filling the air with heavy sighs and glowing orbs. It should have been allowed for your love, but it wasn't. Asgard should be in mourning, and soon it would be- you would make sure of that. You only wished you would be there to see it.

"He loved you all, and I'll never know why," you said solemnly, heat flushing your cheeks. "It was never deserved, never appreciated. Especially not by you." The final word darted like venom between your teeth.

Odin laughed. It made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

"I never did understand him," he crooned, not deigning to look at you. The dagger slid from it's hold against your thigh. "You never tried." you whispered.

In the briefest of moments, you whipped the dagger with trained precision. The thin blade rested beneath the god's chin, digging into soft, fat flesh. From behind, the guards would see nothing.

"Ah," the Allfather hummed, tilting his head back ever so slightly. His stance never changed. "I commend your audacity my dear. Truly. But you see, I am not the monster that you think I am."

Something in his tone made you pause. You had been fully prepared to sink Loki's dagger into his throat without mercy. Ready to hear the wet gurgle of breath fighting blood. Escaping retribution from this was not an option, but you didn't want it. You wanted to see the look on Odin's face as the lights went out. You wanted to see his one staring eye glaze to the heavens as life left him. For him to know with his dying rattle that someone cared enough for Loki of Asgard to avenge him, no matter the cost.

"You are a monster," you panted through gritted teeth. An unnerving smile began to crawl across Odin's lips. "True," he said coyly. "But not the one you think I am."

Your eye twitched, taking in the opaque blue of his stare that suddenly sparkled with more life than you had seen in years. Your stomach churned, the hand holding the blade beginning to tremble.

"With my dagger too, how poetic," Odin whispered with a smirk.

You gasped, jumping back as the blade tumbled towards the ground. It disappeared in a flash of seidr before hitting the marble.

It can't be-

"Guards!" the Allfather thundered, straightening as they resumed their posts. "Show the Lady to my private chambers. There are matters regarding Prince Loki's memorial we must urgently discuss."

You saw the guards throw confused glances to one another as you stood slack-jawed beneath the veil. Odin raised your hand, placing a chaste kiss to your knuckles.

"It will heal," he murmured against your skin, before letting the hand fall limply to your side. The King leant closer, the ghost of his breath sending shivers down your spine. "Do not waste your worry."

The familiar words ricochet between your ears, heart thumping as you followed the jostling procession across the balustrade. It was all you could do not to faint. The implications, if your mind did not play tricks, were too vast.

So you decided to focus on the gait of the King as you placed one foot in front of the other. On the swagger that had not been there when you last spoke weeks before. As if the weight of another’s passion still hung between his thighs. He would not part with that. You smiled, feeling it grow as you watched the unmistakable way his shoulders swayed back and forth with each long stride. The undeniable spring in his step. Singularly focused, like another you had known. It held a promise. A hope.

It was a ten minute walk to the King's chambers.

So you focused on the sway of his shoulders. On the mischievous spring in his step. Only that.

A/N - I wrote this on the back of a bus in Morocco and haven't messed with it much - i do like the concept though, hope you do too! Thanks to @lokischambermaid for her enthusiasm when I first mentioned it a while back :) Love you! x If you want to see what 'after' might look like - check out Praise Him (smut) which is also based on this concept :) It's one of my earlier fics though and it shows 😂

Tags @meowmeow-motherfucker @muddyorbsblr @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loveroflokiforpoeticjustice @coldnique @holdmytesseract @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @vbecker10 @imalovernotahater @thomase1 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @maple-seed @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @infinitystoner @goblingirlsarah @ozymdias @peaches1958 @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @sidepartskinnyjeans @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @psychospore @littlespaceyelf

[tac-the-unseen]

Howdy!

I was going through your master list for all of your questions and notice you had something down for sleep demon?

I don't know what that is but I'm sold! So can you make a creepy fluff for whatever it is?

Please and thank you'

Love,

Anon <3

Of course! I had an old draft of this so I just only needed to finish it lol

Sleep Demon x reader

(Creepy Fluff) 

You lay in bed with your hands over your eyes. You really need to sleep but your mind won't stop. You can feel a dull drum behind your eyes, pounding away like you don't have an early shift tomorrow. 

Your brows furrow tightly hoping the painkillers you took 10 minutes ago start working their magic soon. You toss yourself over to look at the time in your charging phone.

 1:20 AM

You're screwed. 

Your shift starts at 5:00, Your alarm is set for 4:30. Even if you fall asleep now you'll only get three hours in. A small panic settles into your stomach and you let out a pitiful groan. 

“Shhhhhh…” 

You freeze, But only for a moment. You quickly whip your hands off of your face to look for whatever made that noise.

Your search doesn't even last 2 seconds before you see…it?

The slender human-like creature stands by your doorway. Its  face is white with black holes where the eyes should be. It has No nose and no mouth. It's wearing the darkest shade of black you've ever seen and a pair of matching gloves. You don't know what tells you it isn't human, But your mind immediately removes humanity from the situation. 

The creature presses its gloved hand against where its mouth should be and makes another “Shhhhhh…” it creeps closer to you and moves delicately across your floors. 

You try and sit up but are met with the most resistant pull backwards. You try to lurch forward again but your muscles won't comply. To your absolute horror you realize you're stuck. Frozen in place. Your breathing starts to get sporadic and uneven. 

“Shhhhhh….” It shushes you again. 

Finally the thing is looming over you. It softly taps your nightstand and rubs his gloves together. “Shh..shh..shhhh.” it whispers to you. Just out of your field of vision it reaches down to its side. Your mind runs wild. Will it pull a knife? A gun? But no, it reaches down and pulls out a chalkboard and a packet of chalk. 

It taps the board gently above you and makes light whooshing sounds. “Shhhhhh…..” it whispers again. It's attention turns to the board and it takes a piece of chalk and begins to slowly drag it across the board. 

After a few seconds it turns the board to face you. ‘Hello.’ was all that it had written. It looks around slowly and slowly rubs away tears you didn't know you were shedding. It looks back at the board, wipes away the previous message and begins to work on a new one.

When it turns the board towards you it reads ‘Be patient…’ It sets the board back down and starts writing again. ‘...With me.’ is the new message. 

So far this thing has greeted you and told you to quit your bitching In all of 5 minutes. It begins to write again ‘You belong here…’ and again ‘Let me fix you.’ 

You have no fucking clue what that mean. Fix you? Fix? What is there to fix? What does it think needs fixing? 

The creature sets the board aside and rubs away the chalk from its fingertips. Slowly its hand brushes your cheek and rubs its thumb over your temple. The gloves are soft yet cold, the leather is smooth and well taken care of. 

The creature lets in a deep breath and uses it's other hand to press onto your sternum. It gently taps your chest and uses it other hand you make you look at it. It takes another deep breath and breaths out. 

This thing is telling you to take a deep breaths. This thing is telling you to control your breathing. You take a deep breath and shakily exhale. It taps your cheek softly like It's praising you. 

Both its hands slide up your body and reaches your head. It softly begins massaging your temples and using its thumb to gently pet your eyebrows. “Shhh…” it whispers again. Its fingers delicately worked into your hair and over your aches. Slowly you began to feel your headache disappear. 

Oh…That's what this thing meant. It's not fixing you, it's fixing your headache. 

You're a little relieved now that its intentions seem slightly more pure than you thought. It clicks its tongue at you soothingly and lightly pressed into your temple. Quickly it's like a weight is lifted off of you. The pressure on your head is slowly lifted. The throb in your temples dissipates as if its fingers just pulls it from your skull. 

Your body lets out an involuntary groan of pleasure. It lets out a noise akin to a chuckle and slowly its hands slowly leaves your head. You let out another groan of disapproval, it again lets out that strange chuckle noise. 

Its hand slowly reaches back for the place you know its clipboard rests. You hear the tapping and scraping of chalk and once again the chalkboard is put back into your field of vision.

‘Are you doing okay?’ it slowly taps on the board and a makes a gentle whistling sound. It's lowers the board, erases it's previous message, and taps away to write a new one. When it's finished it lifts the board back up ‘I know this is a bit much…’ 

Again it writes a new message, this time it's quick. ‘but…’ And then it's on to the next. It dips its head down and works just out of your sight. When it comes back up  ‘I know you can do it.’ This thing is encouraging you. 

You're not sure if it's the moment, The relief, or an odd version of Stockholm syndrome, but it’s message strikes a cord deep within your heart. Your mind starts to reflect on your relationships with people. 

Why is it that this thing with no face is saying everything you've been wanting your loved ones to say? Why is it that this monster who broke into your house is nicer to you than your family is? I'm most importantly, Why have you oh so suddenly want to develop a deep connection with this thing? 

While reflecting on all these questions and genuinely considering a psych ward visit, it's able to pull an object from it's pocket. 

A comb.

It carefully begins to comb your hair. The gentle scratching of your scalp is damn near intoxicating. If you could move your foot would be thumping on the bed like a dog. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and your body lets out another groan. 

Seeing as you clearly like the combing, it keeps brushing for 9 minutes. The whole time it shushes and clicks at you soothingly. Your eyes closed as you enjoyed the feeling. When the sensation of your hair being brushed abruptly stops your eyes open. It reaches down and begins to write again.

 While it's writes, you try to shift into a more comfortable position, as the spot You've been laying in for a while just isn't doing it for you anymore. 

You mentally call yourself stupid, knowing that you're paralyzed, but You still managed to turn your head. And then your fingers…And then your arms…. Your legs…. You're no longer paralyzed…It dawns on you that you've just been letting everything happen and that you've had the ability to move for a little bit now. 

With that realization you do shift into a more comfortable position. That seems to startle the being, and it stares at you for a couple seconds. It quickly erases whatever it originally said and starts furiously scribbling down something. For a moment you're scared of what it will say And when it holds up its chalkboard you're almost too scared to look. 

But curiosity killed the cat and you looked back at its message ‘Won't you stay?’ It's asking…not telling….

It's asking….

It erases the message and writes something else ‘evolve with me’ It flips over the board ‘You are worth it!’ 

Besides your better judgment, You're able to mutter out words before hashing it together in your brain. “You can come back tomorrow night…We can see each other then…” 

It looks a little sad at your response, it erases its board and starts writing again. Even though it's been quiet this whole time, the room seems even quieter. It's a different quiet…But you're not given too much time to think about that before it has its final message. 

‘Goodbye….see you again….’ It softly puts the board down and gently nods at you. It caresses the side of your face before finally putting you to sleep. And after all it's hard work you're put into darkness and sleep well the rest of the night. 

Thanks for reading <3

This fic is based off of an ASMRist I found called Sleep Demon. In fact it's based off of his first video!

I think that they're really cool and have some pretty sweet scenarios.

Link to Video

If you're into ASMR and creepy little guys, you really need to check them out! (Yes that gif is of the Actual channel!)

(also I didn't know what pronouns to use so I used it/its/it's)

[amorgansgal]

The Memory of Shadows

So here we go, the sad Astarion x Reader/Tav fic that made me sad when I wrote it. I've not included a named or gendered tav, so hopefully everyone can enjoy... or not enjoy as the case may be!

Gender Neutral Tav/Reader x Astarion

CW: Grief/mourning, death, depression, suicidal thoughts

He wakes. He takes a moment to look at the gossamer red fabric that drapes over the bed, feels the plush, velvet cover under his fingers, he trails them up to the pillow next to him, its cold blankness always an aching reminder. He hates it and he’s not even sure if it still smells of you, there’s so little of you left. Time is doing that, you slip away from mortal memory, becoming lost to the status of mythical hero, rather than living, breathing, flesh and bone. Like a dull knife forcing its way back into his heart, he aches, everything hurts - though he’d never admit to it.

You’re in books, there’s songs about you, about all of them: brilliant Gale, fierce Lae’zel, clever Shadowheart, noble Wyll, excitable Karlach, even Astarion gets a look in as wily. And you, you were the hero, the glorious leader who led them to victory, who saved Baldur’s Gate. You have the starring role. It seems though, to him, the more that is written and said about you the less real you become. He’s scared of that, you’re shimmering before him, your face drifting like shadows, the memory of shadows. Oh he has paintings of you, they’re all over the house - he put them back up after it became somewhat bearable - but they’re a frozen piece of you, not the real thing. They don’t capture the way your mouth would twitch before you smiled or laughed, the way your eyes sparkled with delight when he had managed to pick a lock or the warmth of your hands when you took hold of his.

‘How long has it been?’ he thinks as he finally gets to his feet. ‘50 years, 80, 100?’ He wrote down the day in a diary, but that too has been lost to this house and he’s not sure if it really matters. Why would it? Knowing there’s a special date to acknowledge your passing doesn’t make any other day hurt less. He’s alone, more so than ever. Gale is gone, Wyll is gone, Lae’zel is gone, Shadowheart passed a few years ago… There’s just him and Halsin and Jaheira, and he’s never exactly been close with either of them. Halsin used to visit when you had passed, you had been close with him after all. But he got the sense Halsin did so out of obligation, rather than actually liking him and when they had exhausted all topics of the past - the nautiloid ship, the druid grove, the goblin camp, the shadow curse, moonrise towers, Ketheric, Baldur’s Gate, Orin, Gortash, the Elder brain, you - and he and Halsin were left with an uneasy silence. A silence that lingered on and on and was close to swallowing them up, until Halsin said he would leave Astarion in peace. As though he even knew what peace meant anymore. Now they only meet when someone else dies. What a grim prospect. Who's next? Probably Jaheira, though that won't be a for a while yet.

He moves over to his wardrobe, even this part of the day holds no joy for him. He doesn’t get to hear your teasing comments about how long he spends carefully selecting his clothes or feel your hands wrap around his waist, your chest pressed against his back, the kisses you would trail down his spine. He presses his lips tightly together, not wanting to let out any whimper of pain or cry of anguish. At times, his darkest, loneliest times, he wonders if he would have agreed to let Cazador torture him for all eternity, if it meant he could just have one more day with you. A single day would be worth it. A single kiss, a single loving touch, a single laugh, a single look. He’d make a deal with all the devils in hell if it meant he got to hold you again for one last time. 

He pulls his hand away from the handle on the wardrobe door. He’s too tired for this and he doesn’t want to do it anymore. He’s in hell already, he may as well see if he’ll get a glimpse of you in the afterlife. He walks over to the heavy draped curtains, his fingers curl on the black fabric lined with golden leaves. You probably won’t be pleased with this, but hopefully you’ll forgive him. He's sure you will. And gods, he would love to see you angry because it would mean seeing you again. He'll take anything he can get. He yanks open the curtains. The sun is brilliant, blinding, burning hot and cold, and the sharp, all encompassing light reminds him of your laugh, your wit, your very being. Maybe he’ll get to see you soon.